When one with t'other straightaway agrees
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
Her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
When flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
The fertile mother changelings drops like kings
To break a rule Britannia's might might waive
Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
A piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
Poor Yorick comes to bury not address
Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
With marble souvenirs then fill a slum
The bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum