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
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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