At five precisely out went La Marquise
For tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
The Turks said just take anything you please
While sharks to let's say potted shrimps are prone
Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
That metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
The fertile mother changelings drops like kings
As sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
What things we did we went the whole darned hog
The colonel's still escutcheoned in undress
With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
And let you off from your opinions glum
They're kings we're mammal-cousins hi ho hum