1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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