1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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