1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum