At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
When masons clutch the breath we held on loan
Her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
Th'outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
For burning bushes never fish forgave
Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can't depress
A piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
The country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
We'll suffocate before the epilogue
Where no one bothered how one warmed one's bum
For Europe's glory while Fate's harpies strum