1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4normal one aims to be and share the throne

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14the best of all things to an end must come