There Is No Fouler Fiend

But Sure The Eye Of Time Beholds No Name, So Blest As Thine In All The Rolls Of Fame.

The Leader, Mingling With The Vulgar Host, Is In The Common Mass Of Matter Lost.

I'm In A Place Where I Don't Know Where I Am!

Far From Me Be The Gift Of Bacchus--pernicious, Inflaming Wine, That Weakens Both Body And Mind.

I'm Not A Bath Man Myself. More Of A Cologne Man.