1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
← OPEN dataBase