1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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