1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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