1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14the best of all things to an end must come
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