1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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