1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb