O, She's Warm! If This Be Magic,

For Murder, Though It Have No Tongue, Will Speak With Most Miraculous Organ.

Make The Upcoming Hour Overflow With Joy, And Let Pleasure Drown The Brim.

I Am Giddy, Expectation Whirls Me Round. The Imaginary Relish Is So Sweet That It Enchants My Sense.

My Falcon Now Is Sharp And Passing Empty, And Till She Stoop She Must Not Be Full-gorged, For Then She Never Looks Upon Her Lure.

A Table-full Of Welcome!