1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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