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
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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