| Enter the Enemy |
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| Sex is of the same clay as Time! — of the same clay |
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| In my best Boileau always, I will pass |
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| Take next the Backs alone — take all that stares |
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| Where I join issue, as Fleet Street would say |
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| But the Back is father to the Front. All's young |
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| But how can the mathematics of the stars |
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| I'm all for Backs then |
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| Exclaim with me: 'Oh World, oh Life, oh Time !' |
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| Be that as it may I should be sorry to be dead |
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