1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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