The acid tongue with gourmet's expertise
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
The understanding critic firstly sees
One gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
With sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
A daring baron pockets precious Mings
In purest cradels tha's how they behave
When dried the terrapin can naught express
One tongue will do to keep the verse agog
While homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
Bard I adore your endless monologue
Where no one bothered how one warmed one's bum
yet from the City's pie pulled not one plum