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
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14the best of all things to an end must come
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