1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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