1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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