1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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