1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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