1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
← OPEN dataBase