1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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