At five precisely out went La Marquise
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
The understanding critic firstly sees
With cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
When flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
They both are right not unformed smatterings
Victorious worms grind all into the grave
The genealogist with field and fess
A piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
While homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
We'll suffocate before the epilogue
Do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
Soliloquies predict great things old chum