1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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