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
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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