At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
Through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
Replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
'Ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
With sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
Proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
To break a rule Britannia's might might waive
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
In indian summers Englishmen drink grog
Poor Yorick comes to bury not address
Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
Fried grilled black pudding's still the world's best yum