The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
For tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
The understanding critic firstly sees
That suede ferments is not at all well known
Old Galileo's Pisan offerings
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
Proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
To break a rule Britannia's might might waive
The genealogist with field and fess
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
The country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
Soliloquies predict great things old chum