1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
← OPEN dataBase