Do Not Beg Me By Knees Or

Like Leaves On Trees The Race Of Man Is Found,- Now Green In Youth, Now Withering On The Ground; Another Race The Following Spring Supplies: They Fall Successive, And Successive Rise.

Look At Me! I'm A Puffy Pink Cloud!

We Men Are Wretched Things.

Tell Me, O Muse, Of That Ingenious Hero Who Travelled Far And Wide After He Had Sacked The Famous Town Of Troy.

She Spoke And Loosened From Her Bosom The Embroidered Girdle Of Many Colors Into Which All Her Allurements Were Fashioned. In It Was Love And Int Desire Which Steals The Mind Even Of The Wise.