1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
← OPEN dataBase