1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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