1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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