At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
That horders of crooks felt they'd more right to own
The understanding critic firstly sees
Normal one aims to be and share the throne
How it suprised us pale grey underlings
When flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
The learning linguist cameramaniac sings
In purest cradels tha's how they behave
Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
In indian summers Englishmen drink grog
To prove mamma an adult with a tress
Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
With marble souvenirs then fill a slum
Fried grilled black pudding's still the world's best yum