1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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