1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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