1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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