1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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