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
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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