The wild horse champs the Parthenon's top frieze
For tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
His toga rumpled high above his knees
One gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
And yet 'twas he the beggar Fate just flings
Whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
They both are right not unformed smatterings
To break a rule Britannia's might might waive
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
With gravity at gravity's great cog
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
But I can understand you Brogher Gog
With marble souvenirs then fill a slum
The bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum