"Thy shrewd construction doth confute thy years
And lend thy unripe form a sagely seem,
Whose handsome fortress doth inhem thy fears
And round thy passions with a heavy seam.
What army dare attempt to breach that fort,
Unbar thy vestments and agape thy bars,
Turn out thy wonderments for foolish sport?
The siege alone would well outlast the stars,
And end such foray with a sad retort.
No force of arms will e’er unthread thy guard,
But careful consort might thy courteous court
Persuade to ope the gate and thus discard
The chilly semblance of the mortared bounds
That cloak the warmer recess of thy grounds."
- Sir Martin Caterwaul III