1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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