The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
When masons clutch the breath we held on loan
His toga rumpled high above his knees
Which neither time nor tide can long postpone
The roundabout eats profits made on swings
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
Th'outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
The genealogist with field and fess
And starve the sniveling baby like a dog
While homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
And let you off from your opinions glum
They're kings we're mammal-cousins hi ho hum