The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
That horders of crooks felt they'd more right to own
Forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
And empty cages show life's bird has flown
Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
When flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
He's gone to London how the echo rings
Victorious worms grind all into the grave
The genealogist with field and fess
With quill white-collared through his life will jog
From cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
With marble souvenirs then fill a slum
Fried grilled black pudding's still the world's best yum