1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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