1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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