1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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