1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum