Back to their chambers, those long galleries
In the seraglio, where the ladies lay
Their delicate limbs; a thousand bosoms there
Beating for Love, as the caged bird's for air.
XXVII.
I love the sex, and sometimes would reverse
The Tyrant's[341] wish, "that Mankind only had
One neck, which he with one fell stroke might pierce:"
My wish is quite as wide, but not so bad,[GT]
And much more tender on the whole than fierce;