1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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