1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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