1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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