1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
← OPEN dataBase