1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14the best of all things to an end must come
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