O' What May Man Within Him Hide,

This Bud Of Love, By Summer's Ripening Breath, May Prove A Beauteous Flower When Next We Meet

Words To Deeds Cold Breath Gives.

To Lapse In Fulness Is Sorer Than To Lie For Need, And Falsehood Is Worse In Kings Than Beggars.

Drown Thyself? Drown Cats And Blind Puppies.

Then To Silvia Let Us Sing That Silvia Is Excelling. She Excels Each Mortal Thing Upon The Dull Earth Dwelling.