1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4normal one aims to be and share the throne

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum