The heart-tickle of passionate soon sleep
The partly missing jewel in the diadem of the homosexual freak
My friend, saith the Lord, what do you seek?
Love is free, but food and drink
charges a fee
Just think of me as a fool and you will see
The sword will come down again with all the charge
of false knowledge
And the world will sing no more with false mirth
But with dissolving foliage
And autumnal dearth.