1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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