If There Wasn't Death, I Think You

So I Fancy My Muse Says, When I Wish To Die, Oh No, Oh No, We Are Not Yet Friends Enough, And Virtue Also Says: We Are Not Yet Friends Enough.

My Muse Sits Forlorn She Wishes She Had Not Been Born She Sits In The Cold No Word She Says Is Ever Told.

O Happy Dogs Of England, Bark Well At Errand Boys, If You Lived Anywhere Else, You Would Not Be Allowed To Make Such An Infernal Noise.

Youth Is An Arithmetical Statement Of Passing Interest, Each Hour Eats It Up.

I Like To See Cats In Movement. A Galloping Cat Is A Fine Sight. See It Cross The Road In A Streak, Cursed By The Drivers Of Motor Cars And Buses, Dodging The Butcher's Bicycle, Coming Safe To The Kerb And Bellying Under Its Home Gate.