1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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