At five precisely out went La Marquise
That horders of crooks felt they'd more right to own
Old corned-beef's rusty armour spreads disease
While sharks to let's say potted shrimps are prone
They both are right not untamed mutterings
That metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
An icicle of frozen marrow pings
In purest cradels tha's how they behave
It's no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
A piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
While homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
Bard I adore your endless monologue
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
For Europe's glory while Fate's harpies strum