At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
Through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
The understanding critic firstly sees
One gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
O Parthenon you hold the charger's strings
When flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
He's gone to London how the echo rings
Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
What things we did we went the whole darned hog
Watching manure and compost coalesce
Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
Poor reader smile before your lips go numb
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb