At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
His nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
Old corned-beef's rusty armour spreads disease
One gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
And yet 'twas he the beggar Fate just flings
With sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
Th'outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
The nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
In indian summers Englishmen drink grog
The colonel's still escutcheoned in undress
Southern baroque's seductive dialogue
Ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
For Europe's glory while Fate's harpies strum