He bent right down to pick up his valise
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
Replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
Which neither time nor tide can long postpone
O Parthenon you hold the charger's strings
With sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
Proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
As sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
And starve the sniveling baby like a dog
The country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
Do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb