1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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