1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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