1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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