1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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