He bent right down to pick up his valise
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
His toga rumpled high above his knees
One gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
Filching the lolly country thrift helped save
An icicle of frozen marrow pings
In purest cradels tha's how they behave
Platonic Greece was not so talentless
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
To prove mamma an adult with a tress
But I can understand you Brogher Gog
With marble souvenirs then fill a slum
The best of all things to an end must come