From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
His toga rumpled high above his knees
'Ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
The North Wind Bites into his architrave
They both are right not unformed smatterings
Till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
The peasants's skirts on rainy days she'd tress
With gravity at gravity's great cog
Socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
Ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb