The wild horse champs the Parthenon's top frieze
That horders of crooks felt they'd more right to own
The showman gargles fire and sword with ease
With cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
Rejecting ermine to become a knave
An icicle of frozen marrow pings
The nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
When dried the terrapin can naught express
One tongue will do to keep the verse agog
On wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
No need to cart such treasures from the fog
The Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
The best of all things to an end must come