The imagination may be compared to Adam's dream — he awoke and found it truth.
Give me women, wine, and snuff Until I cry out 'hold, enough!' You may do so sans objection Till the day of resurrection; For bless my beard thy aye shall be My beloved Trinity.
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And mid-May's eldest child, The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine, The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.