1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
← OPEN dataBase