For Pleasures Past I Do Not Grieve,

Oh! Might I Kiss Those Eyes Of Fire, A Million Scarce Would Quench Desire; Still Would I Steep My Lips In Bliss, And Dwell An Age On Every Kiss; Nor Then My Soul Should Sated Be, Still Would I Kiss And Cling To Thee: Nought Should My Kiss From Thine Dissever, Still Would We Kiss And Kiss For Ever; E'en Though The Numbers Did Exceed The Yellow Harvest's Countless Seed; To Part Would Be A Vain Endeavour: Could I Desist? -ah! Never-never.

Brisk Confidence Still Best With Woman Copes: Pique Her And Soothe In Turn-soon Passion Crowns Thy Hopes.

A Woman Should Never Be Seen Eating Or Drinking, Unless It Be Lobster Salad And Champagne, The Only True Feminine And Becoming Viands.

The Very Best Of Vineyards Is The Cellar

A Change Came O'er The Spirit Of My Dream.