1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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