1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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