The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
Through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
His toga rumpled high above his knees
And empty cages show life's bird has flown
O Parthenon you hold the charger's strings
The North Wind Bites into his architrave
A daring baron pockets precious Mings
Till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
It's no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
With quill white-collared through his life will jog
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
With marble souvenirs then fill a slum
They're kings we're mammal-cousins hi ho hum