Love—War—a tempest—surely there's variety;

Also a seasoning slight of lucubration;

A bird's-eye view, too, of that wild, Society;

A slight glance thrown on men of every station.

If you have nought else, here's at least satiety,

Both in performance and in preparation;

And though these lines should only line portmanteaus,

Trade will be all the better for these Cantos.