The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
Old corned-beef's rusty armour spreads disease
One gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
The roundabout eats profits made on swings
Rejecting ermine to become a knave
He's gone to London how the echo rings
Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
With gravity at gravity's great cog
To prove mamma an adult with a tress
We'll suffocate before the epilogue
Do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb