He bent right down to pick up his valise
That horders of crooks felt they'd more right to own
Her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
And loudly sang off-key without a tone
O Parthenon you hold the charger's strings
The North Wind Bites into his architrave
They both are right not unformed smatterings
In purest cradels tha's how they behave
Platonic Greece was not so talentless
With quill white-collared through his life will jog
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
Do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
They're kings we're mammal-cousins hi ho hum