1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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