1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave

9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum