1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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