1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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