(A Pasteurization of Ode VII.)
How many kisses, Lesbia, miss, you ask would
be enough for me?
I cannot sum the total number; nay, that were
too tough for me.
The sands that o'er Cyrene's shore lie sweetly
odoriferous,
The stars that sprent the firmament when
overly stelliferous--
Come, Lezzy, please add all of these, until the
whole amount of 'em
Will sorely vex the rubbernecks attempting
to keep count of 'em.
