The wild horse champs the Parthenon's top frieze
When masons clutch the breath we held on loan
He bent right down and well what did he seize
That suede ferments is not at all well known
To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
Rejecting ermine to become a knave
In salads all chew grubs before they've wings
To break a rule Britannia's might might waive
Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
With quill white-collared through his life will jog
While homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
We'll suffocate before the epilogue
And let you off from your opinions glum
And lessors' dates have all too short a sum