The wild horse champs the Parthenon's top frieze
The answer is they could be twins full-grown
The understanding critic firstly sees
While sharks to let's say potted shrimps are prone
How it suprised us pale grey underlings
When flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
An icicle of frozen marrow pings
That every verbal shock aims to deprave
The genealogist with field and fess
Shallots and sharks'fins face the smould'ring log
On wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
No need to cart such treasures from the fog
Suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
Fried grilled black pudding's still the world's best yum