1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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