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 empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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