1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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