1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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