1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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