1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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