1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14the best of all things to an end must come
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