1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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