1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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