1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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