At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
The answer is they could be twins full-grown
He bent right down and well what did he seize
That suede ferments is not at all well known
The roundabout eats profits made on swings
Filching the lolly country thrift helped save
Such merchandise a melancholy brings
Victorious worms grind all into the grave
It's no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
Socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
Poor reader smile before your lips go numb
Soliloquies predict great things old chum