At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
The answer is they could be twins full-grown
The Turks said just take anything you please
And loudly sang off-key without a tone
They both are right not untamed mutterings
Nought can the mouse's timid nibbling stave
They both are right not unformed smatterings
Victorious worms grind all into the grave
Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
One tongue will do to keep the verse agog
Watching manure and compost coalesce
No need to cart such treasures from the fog
And let you off from your opinions glum
The best of all things to an end must come