Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
Through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
Upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
With cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
O Parthenon you hold the charger's strings
Whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
Such merchandise a melancholy brings
To break a rule Britannia's might might waive
The genealogist with field and fess
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
On wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
Southern baroque's seductive dialogue
Do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
The best of all things to an end must come