Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
His nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
He bent right down and well what did he seize
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
With sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
He's gone to London how the echo rings
Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
One tongue will do to keep the verse agog
The colonel's still escutcheoned in undress
We'll suffocate before the epilogue
On fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb