The wild horse champs the Parthenon's top frieze
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
The showman gargles fire and sword with ease
One gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
When flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
In salads all chew grubs before they've wings
That every verbal shock aims to deprave
The peasants's skirts on rainy days she'd tress
With gravity at gravity's great cog
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
Poor reader smile before your lips go numb
In cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?