If the devil step'd old lady, from his feigns regions just below, He couldn't find a picture like the one before me now: No doubt you know the gentleman, a sable on is he, and he's said to be Papa of all the lies that yet might be. Your eyes are false, your nose is false, your nose is false, and falser still your tongue, Your breast is false, your heart is false, as over part sung; And if disgust did not prevail, open my present will, I could speak of something villainous, and yet more ***** still. Victorian "horror" valentine. February 23, 1955.