The acid tongue with gourmet's expertise
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
The showman gargles fire and sword with ease
'Ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
How it suprised us pale grey underlings
The North Wind Bites into his architrave
Such merchandise a melancholy brings
For burning bushes never fish forgave
Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
With quill white-collared through his life will jog
The colonel's still escutcheoned in undress
Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
Do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
They're kings we're mammal-cousins hi ho hum