1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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