1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave

9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum