The wild horse champs the Parthenon's top frieze
The answer is they could be twins full-grown
The understanding critic firstly sees
With cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
They both are right not untamed mutterings
The North Wind Bites into his architrave
Th'outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
Till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
When dried the terrapin can naught express
A piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
From cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
But I can understand you Brogher Gog
Poor reader smile before your lips go numb
The best of all things to an end must come