1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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