From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
His nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
He bent right down and well what did he seize
Normal one aims to be and share the throne
O Parthenon you hold the charger's strings
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
He's gone to London how the echo rings
Thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
It's no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
One tongue will do to keep the verse agog
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
No need to cart such treasures from the fog
Where no one bothered how one warmed one's bum
Fried grilled black pudding's still the world's best yum