1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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