1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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