1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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