1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum