1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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