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
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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