1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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