1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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