1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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