Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
Licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
The understanding critic firstly sees
That suede ferments is not at all well known
To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
Filching the lolly country thrift helped save
Th'outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
For burning bushes never fish forgave
It's no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
In indian summers Englishmen drink grog
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
The Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
Fried grilled black pudding's still the world's best yum