1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14the best of all things to an end must come
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