At five precisely out went La Marquise
His exaltation shocked both youth and crone
Old corned-beef's rusty armour spreads disease
And loudly sang off-key without a tone
They both are right not untamed mutterings
That metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
An icicle of frozen marrow pings
That every verbal shock aims to deprave
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
With quill white-collared through his life will jog
Poor Yorick comes to bury not address
Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
Where no one bothered how one warmed one's bum
And lessors' dates have all too short a sum