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
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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