I See A Woman May Be Made

To Stand Against The Deep Dread-bolted Thunder, In The Most Terrible And Nimble Stroke Of Quick, Cross Lightning.

I Have Seen Better Faces In My Time Than Stands On Any Shoulder That I See Before Me At This Instant.

Since My Dear Soul Was Mistress Of Her Choice And Could Of Men Distinguish Her Election, Sh'ath Sealed Thee For Herself.

For This, Be Sure, Tonight Thou Shalt Have Cramps, Side-stitches That Shall Pen Thy Breath Up. Urchins Shall Forth At Vast Of Night That They May Work All Exercise On Thee. Thou Shalt Be Pinched As Thick As Honeycomb, Each Pinch More Stinging Than Bees That Made 'em.

You Cram These Words Into Mine Ears Against The Stomach Of My Sense.