He bent right down to pick up his valise
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
He bent right down and well what did he seize
'Ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
O Parthenon you hold the charger's strings
That metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
Th'outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
Till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
Platonic Greece was not so talentless
One tongue will do to keep the verse agog
Watching manure and compost coalesce
Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
For Europe's glory while Fate's harpies strum