1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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