1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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