1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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