1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone

5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum