1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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