At five precisely out went La Marquise
That horders of crooks felt they'd more right to own
His toga rumpled high above his knees
While sharks to let's say potted shrimps are prone
The roundabout eats profits made on swings
Rejecting ermine to become a knave
In salads all chew grubs before they've wings
Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
Platonic Greece was not so talentless
What things we did we went the whole darned hog
Poor Yorick comes to bury not address
One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
Poor reader smile before your lips go numb
In cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?