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
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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