1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14the best of all things to an end must come
← OPEN dataBase