1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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