1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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