Sing of springtime, when child and man alike
Scorns anachronistic concepts
And seeks the elemental spirit,
The keystone we know is never there.

If less time were spent in honest quest
And more in cynical seduction
Christ and law would suffer
But December would find more children born.

Love is the politics of springtime,
The compromise in the hayloft,
The bargain struck in the smoke-filled room,
The betrayal of trusts when summer heart abounds.

Let us quickly rape the virgin season
Lest we pause and be chaste for no reason.