1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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