1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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