1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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