At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
For tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
The Turks said just take anything you please
Normal one aims to be and share the throne
It's one of many horrid happenings
With sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
In salads all chew grubs before they've wings
Thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
The genealogist with field and fess
A piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
On wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
Where no one bothered how one warmed one's bum
yet from the City's pie pulled not one plum