1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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