The acid tongue with gourmet's expertise
For tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
Old corned-beef's rusty armour spreads disease
While sharks to let's say potted shrimps are prone
How it suprised us pale grey underlings
The North Wind Bites into his architrave
An icicle of frozen marrow pings
Till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
The peasants's skirts on rainy days she'd tress
With quill white-collared through his life will jog
Poor Yorick comes to bury not address
No need to cart such treasures from the fog
On fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
Fried grilled black pudding's still the world's best yum