The acid tongue with gourmet's expertise
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
Upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
Normal one aims to be and share the throne
The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
With sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
An icicle of frozen marrow pings
The nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
Platonic Greece was not so talentless
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
Socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
Suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
Fried grilled black pudding's still the world's best yum