Some Asked Me Where The

Show Me Thy Feet, Show Me Thy Legs, Thy Thighs Show Me Those Fleshy Principalities; Show Me That Hill Where Smiling Love Doth Sit, Having A Living Fountain Under It; Show Me Thy Waist, Then Let Me There Withal, By The Ascension Of Thy Lawn, See All.

Let's Live With That Small Pittance Which We Have; Who Covets More Is Evermore A Slave.

Drink Wine, And Live Here Blitheful While Ye May; The Morrow's Life Too Late Is; Live To-day.

Gather Ye Rose-buds While Ye May, Old Time Is Still A Flying: And This Same Flower That Smiles To Day, Tomorrow Will Be Dying.

That Age Is Best Which Is The First When Youth And Blood Are Warmer.