1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14the best of all things to an end must come
← OPEN dataBase