At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
His nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
The understanding critic firstly sees
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
Old Galileo's Pisan offerings
With sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
The learning linguist cameramaniac sings
To break a rule Britannia's might might waive
It's no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
With quill white-collared through his life will jog
The country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
No need to cart such treasures from the fog
Do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
yet from the City's pie pulled not one plum