The wild horse champs the Parthenon's top frieze
That horders of crooks felt they'd more right to own
His toga rumpled high above his knees
While sharks to let's say potted shrimps are prone
The roundabout eats profits made on swings
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
Such merchandise a melancholy brings
The nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
One tongue will do to keep the verse agog
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
But I can understand you Brogher Gog
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
And lessors' dates have all too short a sum