What Lies of Lather

[Minx]

What dreams of Orpheus
Tear out thine eyes,
O one of slies'
Blessed ballast-
Well.

Atone, atone, a weary stone
Not to be skipt. Indeed A
Snoose is won to fit!;
O cast a way
To mine, to mine,
Creap.

Incite Her wrath,
In bodied baat,
For she is me
And you are not.