1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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