The perfect gauge can irragulate prophecy
'Pon serious tempo, blame serene ratio
As strong adHered charm does to love!
The venus hid midst the repelled poets
Drilling their brains, in beaten Headaches
Whistling of a being is course to insects
As lulling indolence to impression
Content hath found the bible a waste
thought has its independence, but
when displayed, seeks enother, to
Cover its dignity of creation, for sustainance
O life! no sacrafice for thee, but thy
Own wound of repulsive pleasures within
Through, the deep vallies of glorifieing mirth, my soul ray Hence