1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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