1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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