The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
When masons clutch the breath we held on loan
His toga rumpled high above his knees
And loudly sang off-key without a tone
The roundabout eats profits made on swings
That metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
Proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
The nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
What things we did we went the whole darned hog
While homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
Suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
And lessors' dates have all too short a sum