1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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