1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
← OPEN dataBase