1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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