1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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