1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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