Ode to a Fallen Breast

Thou art eyesome among all bosom Filled with holy milk Ripen and bowing to earth Oh! Thou art humble Cans't thou see how marvelous thou art Even he is in awe to thy wondrous taste For thee who think thou dost flow milk of honey Woe and woe I sayest to thee In the face of man thou art the finest Everyhow, no bosom beats thee Is there cause why thee should overween For thy risen bosom shall fall alas! Thy petite figure shall die with old age But my fallen bosom shall stand the test of time Forever fallen but never lost its glory