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
'Ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
The North Wind Bites into his architrave
They both are right not unformed smatterings
The nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
A piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
The country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
No need to cart such treasures from the fog
Do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
The best of all things to an end must come