The wild horse champs the Parthenon's top frieze
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
Upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
With cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
That metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
Th'outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
That every verbal shock aims to deprave
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
In indian summers Englishmen drink grog
Socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
Suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb