1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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