1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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