1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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