He That Loves To Be Flattered Is

He Capers, He Dances, He Has Eyes Of Youth, He Writes Verses, He Speaks Holiday, He Smells April And May.

I Speak Of Peace, While Covert Enmity Under The Smile Of Safety Wounds The World

Thou And I Are Too Wise To Woo Peaceably.

And Then He Drew A Dial From His Poke, And Looking With Lack-lustre Eye, Says Very Wisely, 'it Is Ten O'clock: Thus We May See', Quoth He, 'how The World Wags: 'tis But An Hour Ago Since It Was Nine, And After One Hour More 'twill Be Eleven; And So From Hour To Hour We Ripe And Ripe, And Then From Hour To Hour We Rot And Rot.

We Will Draw The Curtain And Show You The Picture.