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
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
← OPEN dataBase