At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
That horders of crooks felt they'd more right to own
The showman gargles fire and sword with ease
With cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
How it suprised us pale grey underlings
That metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
Such merchandise a melancholy brings
Till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
The genealogist with field and fess
In indian summers Englishmen drink grog
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
Suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
The bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum