The wild horse champs the Parthenon's top frieze
For tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
Forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
And empty cages show life's bird has flown
They both are right not untamed mutterings
That metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
He's gone to London how the echo rings
That every verbal shock aims to deprave
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
What things we did we went the whole darned hog
From cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
We'll suffocate before the epilogue
Suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
Fried grilled black pudding's still the world's best yum