1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9The genealogist with field and fess
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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