1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14the best of all things to an end must come