1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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