From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
Licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
The Turks said just take anything you please
One gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
With sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
Such merchandise a melancholy brings
As sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
The peasants's skirts on rainy days she'd tress
In indian summers Englishmen drink grog
From cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
Poor reader smile before your lips go numb
The best of all things to an end must come