1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
← OPEN dataBase