1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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