1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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