1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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