From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
His toga rumpled high above his knees
And loudly sang off-key without a tone
Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
When flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
Such merchandise a melancholy brings
Till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
In indian summers Englishmen drink grog
On wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
Suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb