1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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