Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
Forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
With cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
How it suprised us pale grey underlings
Whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
Proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
It's no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
A piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
On wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
Bard I adore your endless monologue
The Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
Soliloquies predict great things old chum