1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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