1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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