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
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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