Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
Through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
The Turks said just take anything you please
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
They both are right not untamed mutterings
That metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
They both are right not unformed smatterings
Victorious worms grind all into the grave
The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
One tongue will do to keep the verse agog
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
And let you off from your opinions glum
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb