At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
For tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
The Turks said just take anything you please
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
That metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
He's gone to London how the echo rings
In purest cradels tha's how they behave
Platonic Greece was not so talentless
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
The colonel's still escutcheoned in undress
No need to cart such treasures from the fog
The Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
And lessors' dates have all too short a sum