1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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