1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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