1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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