1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9The genealogist with field and fess
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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