A man had given all other bliss, And all his worldly worth for this, To waste his whole heart in one kiss Upon her perfect lips

A man had given all other bliss, And all his worldly worth for this, To waste his whole heart in one kiss Upon her perfect lips

Man is the hunter; woman is his game. The sleek and shining creatures of the chase, we hunt them for the beauty of their skins; they love us for it, and we ride them down.

By blood a king, in heart a clown.

My strength is as the strength of ten, because my heart is pure.

In the long years liker they must grow; The man be more of woman, she of man.