1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave

9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum