In masks outrageous and austere, The years go by in single file; But none has merited my fear, And none has quite escaped my smile.

In masks outrageous and austere The years go by in single file; But none has merited my fear, And none has quite escaped my smile

If any have a stone to throw It is not I, ever or now

If any have a stone to throw It is not I, ever or now

I am better able to imagine hell than heaven; it is my inheritance, I suppose

Lovers eminent in love Ever diversities combine; The vocal chords of the cushat-dove, The snake's articulated spine. Such elective elements Educate the eye and lip With one's refreshing innocence, The other's claim to scholarship. The serpent's knowledge of the world Learn, and the dove's more naïve charm; Whether your ringlets should be curled, And why he likes his claret warm.