1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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