1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone

5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum