The wild horse champs the Parthenon's top frieze
His nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
His toga rumpled high above his knees
With cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
And yet 'twas he the beggar Fate just flings
Whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
They both are right not unformed smatterings
Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
A piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
The country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
Bard I adore your endless monologue
And let you off from your opinions glum
In cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?