1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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