1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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