1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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