The wild horse champs the Parthenon's top frieze
His exaltation shocked both youth and crone
The understanding critic firstly sees
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
The roundabout eats profits made on swings
The North Wind Bites into his architrave
Proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
As sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
What things we did we went the whole darned hog
While homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
On fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
Soliloquies predict great things old chum