Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
Licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
The showman gargles fire and sword with ease
Normal one aims to be and share the throne
The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
Filching the lolly country thrift helped save
They both are right not unformed smatterings
As sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
Platonic Greece was not so talentless
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
Poor Yorick comes to bury not address
Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
Poor reader smile before your lips go numb
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb