The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
His toga rumpled high above his knees
With cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
And yet 'twas he the beggar Fate just flings
Rejecting ermine to become a knave
The learning linguist cameramaniac sings
To break a rule Britannia's might might waive
The peasants's skirts on rainy days she'd tress
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
Poor Yorick comes to bury not address
One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
In cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?