1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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