1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive

9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum