1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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