Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
The bull's horns ought to dry it like a bone
The understanding critic firstly sees
While sharks to let's say potted shrimps are prone
Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
Rejecting ermine to become a knave
The fertile mother changelings drops like kings
That every verbal shock aims to deprave
Platonic Greece was not so talentless
A piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
Socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
On fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
And lessors' dates have all too short a sum