1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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