1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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