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
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb