The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
He bent right down and well what did he seize
Normal one aims to be and share the throne
And yet 'twas he the beggar Fate just flings
Nought can the mouse's timid nibbling stave
Such merchandise a melancholy brings
As sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
It's no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
A piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
Socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
We'll suffocate before the epilogue
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
And lessors' dates have all too short a sum