1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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