1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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