But Married Once, A Man

0 Summer Friendship, Whose Flat-tering Leaves Shadowed Us In Our Prosperity, With The Least Gust, Drop Off In The Autumn Of Adversity.

This Is The Jew That Shakespeare Drew.

Virgin Me No Virgins! I Must Have You Lose That Name, Or You Lose Me.

Cheerful Looks Make Every Dish A Feast, And It Is That Which Crowns A Welcome.

Shall This Nectar Run Useless, Then, To Waste? Or ... These Lips, That Open Like The Morn, Breathing Perfumes, On Such As Dare Approach Them, Be Untouch'd? They Must--nay, 'tis In Vain To Make Resistance-- Be Often Kissed And Tasted.