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
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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