Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
Licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
He bent right down and well what did he seize
'Ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
How it suprised us pale grey underlings
That metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
Th'outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
Victorious worms grind all into the grave
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
One tongue will do to keep the verse agog
Socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
And let you off from your opinions glum
For Europe's glory while Fate's harpies strum