1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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