1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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