Say that the House that makes our Laws Is but an Infants' School; Say that the World is old and doomed, Where every man's a fool; Say that the worms make skipping-ropes Of Beauty's hair at last; That Love must die, as Age comes cold – To prove it was but Lust: Say what you like, and I'll be calm, No matter what I think; But if you value blood and bones – No disrespect to Drink! |