1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14the best of all things to an end must come
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