The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
For tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
Upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
And empty cages show life's bird has flown
They both are right not untamed mutterings
Rejecting ermine to become a knave
They both are right not unformed smatterings
That every verbal shock aims to deprave
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
One tongue will do to keep the verse agog
Poor Yorick comes to bury not address
Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
And lessors' dates have all too short a sum