1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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