1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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