The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
Through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
Upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
One gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
O Parthenon you hold the charger's strings
Nought can the mouse's timid nibbling stave
He's gone to London how the echo rings
In purest cradels tha's how they behave
It's no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
And starve the sniveling baby like a dog
Poor Yorick comes to bury not address
One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
In cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?