At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
For tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
The understanding critic firstly sees
One gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
And yet 'twas he the beggar Fate just flings
That metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
A daring baron pockets precious Mings
The nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
When dried the terrapin can naught express
With quill white-collared through his life will jog
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
But I can understand you Brogher Gog
And let you off from your opinions glum
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb