1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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