When one with t'other straightaway agrees
The bull's horns ought to dry it like a bone
The Turks said just take anything you please
Which neither time nor tide can long postpone
How it suprised us pale grey underlings
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
An icicle of frozen marrow pings
Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
The peasants's skirts on rainy days she'd tress
With gravity at gravity's great cog
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
Suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
yet from the City's pie pulled not one plum