Hungry, it'll seem
Like eating up a mountain.
Thirsty, it'll feel
Like drinking an entire sea.
And getting the sea,
Could barely guzzle a rivulet.
And obtaining the mountain,
Could hardly swallow a molehill.
For life is simply an empty chase
Without God the Maker of the universe.
Wherefore pant I for that immaculate fountain
To come and quench my thirst,
And I pine for such refreshing honey
To please fill mine whole heart.

In his hand pure gold he has,
Treasure rare of an exquisite kind;
Yet gave he up the courteous lass,
'Changing the essence with the rind.
And such's been the hot eyes of lust
That oft view the crumb as mere crust.

What breedeth this thy high rage,
          My foxy fraulein?
Why not instead bruit me my sin?
And I shall to thee truly apologize
   Right here, now, yea tonight!
For morrow's holy light
Must not upon thine hot anger rise.
Discord should we always discourage.

These twain heaven-made zaftig apples
That stand firmly upon thy finest frame,
    My shapely and delightful dame,
And thine nectar that my heart ripples
Are mine by nuptials to thankfully consume
        In and out of their bloom.

   Let all others turn apace to gall
    In my mouth, my honey doll.

Not all kisses are kisses true.
That I do and from the Bible know
How Judas Iscariot did Jesus show
By a kiss and betrayed Him thru'.

Gall, many do hide neath the nectar
By giving venom for honey.
Many a love professed be phoney
That leaves the heart with some scar.

When remember I all the excellencies
That make us go into supreme ecstasies
Will someday be rotting fast away
In the grave and eventually turn to clay,
How my merry heart droopeth down
At once, letting go of my lady's gown!
  And my risen sun it duty shelves.
    
    The same fate thee awaited,
       Even if thou wilt be cremated.

So all those ravishing things of jolly joy
Which heaven on women glaring bestows
That turn a beefy man to a lackey boy
Shall by and by become the shadows
           Of themselves!

Howbeit I recalled the words of Solomon,
That man needs must relish is ***** wife
And his chosen work in this vain life,
Hence my hanging duty again was done
            In jolly, jolly yummy
     With honey, honey mummy.

Where abideth in thee
                My love,
          Fluttering dove,
  In thine heart or in thy belly?
I mayn't though have been to school,
       Yet am no Passion's fool.