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
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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