Accursed be the city where the laws would stifle nature's!
There is no such thing as a life of passion any more than a continuous earthquake, or an eternal fever. Besides, who would ever shave themselves in such a state?
To chase the glowing hours with flying feet.
Religion-freedom-vengeance-what you will, A word's enough to raise mankind to kill.
Then farewell, Horace; whom I hated so, Not for thy faults, but mine.
And wrinkles, the damned democrats, won't flatter.