Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
His exaltation shocked both youth and crone
Old corned-beef's rusty armour spreads disease
And loudly sang off-key without a tone
Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
Signalling gauchos very rarely shave
They both are right not unformed smatterings
For burning bushes never fish forgave
The genealogist with field and fess
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
The country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
On fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb