1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
← OPEN dataBase