Under most Circumstances keep Offense
Fearful which Foreign Voices tend to Betray
Whichever Dame or Diver licks your Defense
There your Potent Training roots them at-bay
Perhaps your Person, skinned yet strawed by Choice
Placed chosen Parapets enter the Few
And where my Rawlish Spirit blows out a Voice
The Wax does cop; Or Heaters blend a Stew
To Rally then, a Sickness born indeed
Makes Brisk Conversions programmed to Despair
Yet allow your Vices for Virtues to Bleed
Risks the Common Hand - the Headmaster's there.
To place one's Treasury far from your own
Betrays the Heart's Consent and my Cover blown.