1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
← OPEN dataBase