The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
That horders of crooks felt they'd more right to own
The Turks said just take anything you please
'Ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
And yet 'twas he the beggar Fate just flings
That metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
A daring baron pockets precious Mings
Thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
A bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
Watching manure and compost coalesce
Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
With marble souvenirs then fill a slum
yet from the City's pie pulled not one plum