1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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