1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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