1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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