1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14the best of all things to an end must come
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