Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
Through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
His toga rumpled high above his knees
With cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
It's one of many horrid happenings
Nought can the mouse's timid nibbling stave
In salads all chew grubs before they've wings
To break a rule Britannia's might might waive
It's no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
One tongue will do to keep the verse agog
While homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
Southern baroque's seductive dialogue
Suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
They're kings we're mammal-cousins hi ho hum