1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone

5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum