At five precisely out went La Marquise
When masons clutch the breath we held on loan
His toga rumpled high above his knees
'Ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
And yet 'twas he the beggar Fate just flings
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
The learning linguist cameramaniac sings
To break a rule Britannia's might might waive
It's no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
A bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
To prove mamma an adult with a tress
Bard I adore your endless monologue
And let you off from your opinions glum
Soliloquies predict great things old chum