1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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