1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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