Travaux esemiens
Création

Earthling desire

Men still suffer the turmoil
A godess left in her flee.
Terror is worth the end of her.
Was it hearth?

Man, alone, acts like a foil
And dreams of his lives heartily.
Relationed out of pleasant humour.
Was i earthly?

Nobody believes our souls she did soil
Thou their heart they only have to be hearty
To see where did lay the error.
Is it not earthly?

In her hell she wants for us to broil
Her being was weakened as she set men free,
Making a descent living out of their labour.
Are we merely earthlings?

Let us by reflection down the boil
And give our desire a chance to be heathen.
This may just open the golden door.
We are sheerly heavenlings.

thin-e.