The wild horse champs the Parthenon's top frieze
Through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
He bent right down and well what did he seize
That suede ferments is not at all well known
O Parthenon you hold the charger's strings
That metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
In salads all chew grubs before they've wings
That every verbal shock aims to deprave
It's no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
Shallots and sharks'fins face the smould'ring log
While homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
Do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
Soliloquies predict great things old chum