1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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