1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9The genealogist with field and fess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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