At five precisely out went La Marquise
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
Her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
Rejecting ermine to become a knave
The learning linguist cameramaniac sings
That every verbal shock aims to deprave
It's no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
Poor Yorick comes to bury not address
No need to cart such treasures from the fog
Poor reader smile before your lips go numb
And lessors' dates have all too short a sum