At five precisely out went La Marquise
When masons clutch the breath we held on loan
His toga rumpled high above his knees
One gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
And yet 'twas he the beggar Fate just flings
When flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
In salads all chew grubs before they've wings
Thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
With gravity at gravity's great cog
On wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
But I can understand you Brogher Gog
Ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
Fried grilled black pudding's still the world's best yum