1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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