1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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