At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
The bull's horns ought to dry it like a bone
He bent right down and well what did he seize
'Ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
Filching the lolly country thrift helped save
They both are right not unformed smatterings
That every verbal shock aims to deprave
The peasants's skirts on rainy days she'd tress
With gravity at gravity's great cog
On wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
Do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
The best of all things to an end must come