Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
Licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
The understanding critic firstly sees
'Ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
The roundabout eats profits made on swings
That metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
Such merchandise a melancholy brings
The nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
The genealogist with field and fess
And starve the sniveling baby like a dog
The country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
Do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
The bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum