The wild horse champs the Parthenon's top frieze
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
Upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
And loudly sang off-key without a tone
And yet 'twas he the beggar Fate just flings
Nought can the mouse's timid nibbling stave
They both are right not unformed smatterings
Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
One tongue will do to keep the verse agog
From cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
With marble souvenirs then fill a slum
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb