It Is An Easy Thing To Talk

If A Thing Loves, It Is Infinite.

O Why Was I Born With A Different Face? Why Was I Not Born Like The Rest Of My Race?

None But Blockheads Copy Each Other.

I Asked A Thief To Steal Me A Peach: He Turned Up His Eyes. I Asked A Lithe Lady To Lie Her Down: Holy And Meek, She Cries. As Soon As I Went An Angel Came. He Winked At The Thief And Smiled At The Dame- And Without One Word Spoke Had A Peach From The Tree, And 'twixt Earnest And Joke Enjoyed The Lady.

You Smile With Pomp And Rigor, You Talk Of Benevolence And Virtue; I Act With Benevolence And Virtue And Get Murdered Time After Time.