1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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