1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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