1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum