1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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