1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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