1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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