1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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