The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
For tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
The showman gargles fire and sword with ease
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
It's one of many horrid happenings
When flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
Th'outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
The genealogist with field and fess
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
On wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
Do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
Fried grilled black pudding's still the world's best yum