1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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