Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
His nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
His toga rumpled high above his knees
One gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
When flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
Such merchandise a melancholy brings
Till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
With gravity at gravity's great cog
From cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
Bard I adore your endless monologue
With marble souvenirs then fill a slum
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb