At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
He bent right down and well what did he seize
And empty cages show life's bird has flown
The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
The North Wind Bites into his architrave
Th'outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
Thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
And starve the sniveling baby like a dog
While homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
Do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
yet from the City's pie pulled not one plum