1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
← OPEN dataBase