1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
← OPEN dataBase