1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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