1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive

9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14the best of all things to an end must come