The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
When masons clutch the breath we held on loan
Upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
That suede ferments is not at all well known
To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
Filching the lolly country thrift helped save
They both are right not unformed smatterings
In purest cradels tha's how they behave
When dried the terrapin can naught express
In indian summers Englishmen drink grog
Socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
No need to cart such treasures from the fog
Poor reader smile before your lips go numb
For Europe's glory while Fate's harpies strum