1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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