1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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