1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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