I would to heaven that I were so much clay by Lord Byron
I would to heaven that I were so much clay, As I am blood, bone, marrow, passion, feeling - Because at least the past were passed away - And for the future - (but I write this reeling, Having got drunk exceedingly today, So that I seem to stand upon the ceiling) I say - the future is a serious matter - And so - for God's sake - hock and soda water!
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