Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
When masons clutch the breath we held on loan
The Turks said just take anything you please
One gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
Old Galileo's Pisan offerings
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
Th'outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
Till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
The peasants's skirts on rainy days she'd tress
With gravity at gravity's great cog
While homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
No need to cart such treasures from the fog
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
They're kings we're mammal-cousins hi ho hum