1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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