1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum