Anne Ii

. for public domain I shall no longer tire of living, for Anne accounts for all my giving. The only reason I draw breath; to hold off an untimely death; if nothing more than to see her smile, I'll evade the Reaper another mile. For I was worse than a senseless thing,* an unfingered hollow of a ring, a whisper in abandoned caves, foul air from foul knaves, a shout from Lear against the storm, a cold handshake that would not warm. But now I breathe to give her life. There is no hardship, pain or strife, to dull appreciation of her Life, although she'll never be my wife. Loving Anne is just enough, to save this wanton soul so tough. * Lifted from William Shakespeare's Julius Caesar.