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Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone He bent right down and well what did he seize And empty cages show lif'e bird has flown The roundabout eats profits made on swings Rejecting ermine to become a knave Th'outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings The nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave Platonic Greece was not so talentless Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog From cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness With breaking voice across the Alps they slog Where no one bothered how one warmed one's bum For Europe's glory while Fate's harpies strum |