1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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