1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
← OPEN dataBase