1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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