1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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