1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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