At five precisely out went La Marquise
His exaltation shocked both youth and crone
Forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
And empty cages show life's bird has flown
The roundabout eats profits made on swings
When flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
The fertile mother changelings drops like kings
Thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
In indian summers Englishmen drink grog
Socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
Bard I adore your endless monologue
And let you off from your opinions glum
Soliloquies predict great things old chum