1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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