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
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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