At five precisely out went La Marquise
The answer is they could be twins full-grown
He bent right down and well what did he seize
That suede ferments is not at all well known
O Parthenon you hold the charger's strings
When flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
He's gone to London how the echo rings
To break a rule Britannia's might might waive
The genealogist with field and fess
One tongue will do to keep the verse agog
While homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
And let you off from your opinions glum
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb