1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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