The heart asks pleasure first,
And then, excuse from pain ;
And then, those little anodynes
That deaden suffering ;
And then, to go to sleep ;
And then, if it should be
The will of its Inquisitor,
The...
The Popular Heart is a Cannon first —
Subsequent a Drum —
Bells for an Auxiliary
And an Afterward of Rum —
Not a Tomorrow to know its name
Nor a Past to stare —
Ditches for Realms and a Trip to Jail
For a Souvenir —