1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum