At five precisely out went La Marquise
The bull's horns ought to dry it like a bone
The understanding critic firstly sees
While sharks to let's say potted shrimps are prone
How it suprised us pale grey underlings
With sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
Proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
That every verbal shock aims to deprave
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
From cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
In cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?