When one with t'other straightaway agrees
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
His toga rumpled high above his knees
'Ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
And yet 'twas he the beggar Fate just flings
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
Th'outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
In purest cradels tha's how they behave
The genealogist with field and fess
A piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
The colonel's still escutcheoned in undress
We'll suffocate before the epilogue
With marble souvenirs then fill a slum
Soliloquies predict great things old chum