From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
That horders of crooks felt they'd more right to own
The understanding critic firstly sees
And loudly sang off-key without a tone
O Parthenon you hold the charger's strings
Whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
They both are right not unformed smatterings
To break a rule Britannia's might might waive
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
In indian summers Englishmen drink grog
The colonel's still escutcheoned in undress
No need to cart such treasures from the fog
Where no one bothered how one warmed one's bum
The bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum