The wild horse champs the Parthenon's top frieze
His exaltation shocked both youth and crone
He bent right down and well what did he seize
With cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
Whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
Proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
Thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
Platonic Greece was not so talentless
In indian summers Englishmen drink grog
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
On fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
The best of all things to an end must come