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
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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