1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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