I Can't Even Say The Word 'titmouse'

…but There They Lay, Sprawled Across The Field, Craved Far More By The Vultures Than By Wives.

Two Diverse Gates There Are Of Bodiless Dreams, These Of Sawn Ivory, And Those Of Horn. Such Dreams As Issue Where The Ivory Gleams Fly Without Fate, And Turn Our Hopes To Scorn. But Dreams Which Issue Through The Burnished Horn, What Man Soe'er Beholds Them On His Bed, These Work With Virtue And Of Truth Are Born.

My Life Is More To Me Than All The Wealth Of Ilius

The Life, Which Others Pay, Let Us Bestow, And Give To Fame What We To Nature Owe.

The Wine Urges Me On, The Bewitching Wine, Which Sets Even A Wise Man To Singing And To Laughing Gently And Rouses Him Up To Dance And Brings Forth Words Which Were Better Unspoken.