1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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