1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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