The acid tongue with gourmet's expertise
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
Upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
Old Galileo's Pisan offerings
Filching the lolly country thrift helped save
An icicle of frozen marrow pings
For burning bushes never fish forgave
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
With gravity at gravity's great cog
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
With marble souvenirs then fill a slum
Fried grilled black pudding's still the world's best yum