1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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