1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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