At five precisely out went La Marquise
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
The showman gargles fire and sword with ease
Normal one aims to be and share the throne
And yet 'twas he the beggar Fate just flings
With sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
A daring baron pockets precious Mings
Thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
With quill white-collared through his life will jog
Watching manure and compost coalesce
With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
Do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
Soliloquies predict great things old chum