1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9The genealogist with field and fess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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