When one with t'other straightaway agrees
The bull's horns ought to dry it like a bone
Her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
O Parthenon you hold the charger's strings
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
Such merchandise a melancholy brings
For burning bushes never fish forgave
Platonic Greece was not so talentless
A piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
Socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
Southern baroque's seductive dialogue
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
For Europe's glory while Fate's harpies strum