At five precisely out went La Marquise
The answer is they could be twins full-grown
Upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
That suede ferments is not at all well known
O Parthenon you hold the charger's strings
Nought can the mouse's timid nibbling stave
An icicle of frozen marrow pings
That every verbal shock aims to deprave
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
Shallots and sharks'fins face the smould'ring log
The colonel's still escutcheoned in undress
But I can understand you Brogher Gog
And let you off from your opinions glum
And lessors' dates have all too short a sum