Batter my heart, three-person'd God,
And serve it up with chips and cod.
It little profits that an idle king
Should dress up like a lumberjack and sing.
O why do you walk through the fields in gloves?
Protection when greeting my lady-loves.
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!
But immigrants aren't welcome any more.
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
July the fourth? Not quite. The first of May?
Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour.
I need your disinfectant's cleansing power.
Last edited by Marnanel Thurman; 03-11-2011 at 12:18 PM.
Reason: scansion
|