A Woman Is A Dish

But Clay And Clay Differs In Dignity, Whose Dust Is Both Alike.

There's Neither Honesty, Manhood, Nor Good Fellowship In Thee.

O All You Host Of Heaven! O Earth! What Else? And Shall I Couple Hell?

World, World, O World! But That Thy Strange Mutations Make Us Hate Thee/ Life Would Not Yield To Age.

Merrily, Merrily Shall I Live Now, Under The Blossom That Hangs On The Bough.