1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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