There's Luck In Odd Numbers.

Sure My Love Is All Crostlike A Bud In The Frostand There's No Use At All In My Going To Bed,for 't Is Dhrames And Not Slape That Comes Into My Head!

What Is Wine? It Is The Grape Present In Another Form; Its Essence Is There, Though The Fruit Which Produced It Grew Thousands Of Miles Away, And Perished Years Ago. So The Object Of Many A Tender Thought May Be Spiritually Present, In Defiance Of Space - And Fond Recollections Cherished In Defiance Of Time.

Too Little Is It Considered, While We Gaze On Aristocratic Beauty, How Much Good Food, Soft Lying, Warm Wrapping, Ease Of Mind, Have To Do With The Attractions Which Command Our Admiration.

My Hearing Has Suffered Seriously; Just Now I Am Obliged To Have The Assistance Of An Ear Trumpet. Think Of That, My Beauty! - There 's A State For Your Old Lover To Be In! - No More Tender Whisperings! Imagine Sweet Confessions To Be Made Through An Ear Trumpet!

For Dhrames Always Go By Conthraries, My Dear.