1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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