1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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