At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
His nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
Her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
Whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
In salads all chew grubs before they've wings
In purest cradels tha's how they behave
The peasants's skirts on rainy days she'd tress
And starve the sniveling baby like a dog
On wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
Bard I adore your endless monologue
Do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
Soliloquies predict great things old chum