1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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