When one with t'other straightaway agrees
That horders of crooks felt they'd more right to own
The showman gargles fire and sword with ease
Which neither time nor tide can long postpone
O Parthenon you hold the charger's strings
When flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
They both are right not unformed smatterings
That every verbal shock aims to deprave
The genealogist with field and fess
A bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
On wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
No need to cart such treasures from the fog
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb