1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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