1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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