1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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