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
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave

9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum