Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
Licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
Her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
Which neither time nor tide can long postpone
They both are right not untamed mutterings
When flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
Th'outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
The nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
The genealogist with field and fess
Shallots and sharks'fins face the smould'ring log
Socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
But I can understand you Brogher Gog
Poor reader smile before your lips go numb
In cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?