1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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