1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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