At five precisely out went La Marquise
Through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
Old corned-beef's rusty armour spreads disease
That suede ferments is not at all well known
And yet 'twas he the beggar Fate just flings
Whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
A daring baron pockets precious Mings
In purest cradels tha's how they behave
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
The colonel's still escutcheoned in undress
With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
Where no one bothered how one warmed one's bum
Soliloquies predict great things old chum