1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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