1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14the best of all things to an end must come
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