1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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