1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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