1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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