1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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