Such a buzz and burst! Here just one thing's not alive, One that was at first— But life palls. IV Yes, my heart, I know, Just my heart's stone dead— Yes, just so. Sick with heat, those worms Drop down scorched and overfed— No more need of germs! Let them go. V Yes, but you now, look, You, the rouged stage female With a crook, Chalked Arcadian sham, You that made my soul's sleep's dream ail— Your soul fit to damn? Shut the book.