At five precisely out went La Marquise
When masons clutch the breath we held on loan
His toga rumpled high above his knees
And loudly sang off-key without a tone
The roundabout eats profits made on swings
Rejecting ermine to become a knave
They both are right not unformed smatterings
In purest cradels tha's how they behave
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
While homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
On fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
The best of all things to an end must come