Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
His nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
Upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
One gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
Signalling gauchos very rarely shave
Th'outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
For burning bushes never fish forgave
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
A piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
The colonel's still escutcheoned in undress
Bard I adore your endless monologue
The Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
In cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?