The Melancholy Joys Of Evils Pass'd, For

I've Finally Tapped Into That Spirit Of Self-destruction That Makes Rock-n-roll The King Of Music!

O Friends, Be Men; So Act That None May Feel Ashamed To Meet The Eyes Of Other Men. Think Each One Of This Children And His Wife, His Home, His Parents, Living Yet And Dead. For Them, The Absent Ones, I Supplicate, And Bid You Rally Here, And Scorn To Fly.

There Is No Fouler Fiend Than A Woman When Her Mind Is Bent To Evil.

She Spoke And Loosened From Her Bosom The Embroidered Girdle Of Many Colors Into Which All Her Allurements Were Fashioned. In It Was Love And Int Desire Which Steals The Mind Even Of The Wise.

Close To The Gates A Spacious Garden Lies, From The Storms Defended And Inclement Skies; Four Acres Was The Allotted Space Of Ground, Fenc'd With A Green Enclosure All Around. Tall Thriving Trees Confessed The Fruitful Mold: The Reddening Apple Ripens Here To Gold, Here The Blue Fig With Luscious Juice Overflows, With Deeper Red The Full Pomegranate Glows, The Branch Here Bends Beneath The Weighty Pear, And Verdant Olives Flourish Round The Year.