1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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