1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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