The gorgeous buttocks of the ape
Or Autumn sunsets exquisitely dying.
And some to better worlds than this
Mount up on wings as frail and misty
As passion’s all-too-transient kiss
(Though afterwards—oh, omne animal triste!)
But I, too rational by half
To live but where I bodily am.
Can only do my best to laugh.
Can only sip my misery dram by dram.