1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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