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100,000,000,000,000 poems
Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
For tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
Her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
One gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
Nought can the mouse's timid nibbling stave
They both are right not unformed smatterings
The nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
With gravity at gravity's great cog
From cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
No need to cart such treasures from the fog
Suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
The bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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