English poem
Ix
"Thus endeth all the beauty of us. The arms made short, the hands made lean, The shoulders bowed and ruinous, The breasts, alack! all fallen in; The flanks too, like the breasts, grown thin; ** *** *** ***** *****, *** ** **! For the lank thighs, no thighs but skin, They are specked with spots like sausage-meat.