1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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