1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14the best of all things to an end must come
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