1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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