From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
For tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
Her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
And loudly sang off-key without a tone
To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
An icicle of frozen marrow pings
To break a rule Britannia's might might waive
Platonic Greece was not so talentless
A bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
The country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
But I can understand you Brogher Gog
The Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
For Europe's glory while Fate's harpies strum