1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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