1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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