The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
That horders of crooks felt they'd more right to own
The understanding critic firstly sees
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
Old Galileo's Pisan offerings
Nought can the mouse's timid nibbling stave
In salads all chew grubs before they've wings
Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
And starve the sniveling baby like a dog
The colonel's still escutcheoned in undress
Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
And let you off from your opinions glum
yet from the City's pie pulled not one plum