1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14the best of all things to an end must come
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