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
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
← OPEN dataBase