From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
When masons clutch the breath we held on loan
He bent right down and well what did he seize
'Ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
That metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
Proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
Till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
When dried the terrapin can naught express
With gravity at gravity's great cog
Socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
No need to cart such treasures from the fog
With marble souvenirs then fill a slum
For Europe's glory while Fate's harpies strum