1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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