1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum