At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
For tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
Forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
Normal one aims to be and share the throne
To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
With sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
A daring baron pockets precious Mings
Victorious worms grind all into the grave
Platonic Greece was not so talentless
In indian summers Englishmen drink grog
On wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
Bard I adore your endless monologue
Suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
For Europe's glory while Fate's harpies strum