1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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