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
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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