I'll . . . you twain and . . . Pathic Aurelius! Fúrius, libertines!Who durst determine from my versiclesWhich seem o'er softy, that I'm scant of shame.For pious poet it behoves be chasteHimself; no chastity his verses need;Nay, gain they finally more salt of witWhen over softy and of scanty shame,Apt for exciting somewhat prurient,In boys, I say not, but in bearded menWho fail of movements in their hardened loins.Ye who so many thousand kisses sungHave read, deny male masculant I be?You twain I'll . . . and . . .
OF A "PREDESTINED" HUSBANDColony! fain to display thy games on length of thy town-bridge!There, too, ready to dance, though fearing the shaking of crazyLogs of the Bridgelet propt on pier-piles newly renewèd,Lest supine all sink deep-merged in the marish's hollow,So may the bridge hold good when builded after thy pleasure