1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14the best of all things to an end must come
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