1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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