1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
← OPEN dataBase