Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
His exaltation shocked both youth and crone
He bent right down and well what did he seize
Normal one aims to be and share the throne
O Parthenon you hold the charger's strings
Whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
They both are right not unformed smatterings
In purest cradels tha's how they behave
It's no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
A piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
On fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
They're kings we're mammal-cousins hi ho hum