1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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