At five precisely out went La Marquise
For tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
Upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
'Ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
And yet 'twas he the beggar Fate just flings
Whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
He's gone to London how the echo rings
Thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
With quill white-collared through his life will jog
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
On fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
And lessors' dates have all too short a sum