1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14the best of all things to an end must come
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