1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
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
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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