John Donne. (№ 244125)

Rather, the girl lapsed into debauchery,
You call the father of their children
Of the hundreds vertoprahov that slept with her
And all her like rags, frayed,
Soon you will proclaim, as the astrologer,
Who is Infanta husband will call,
Or one of the local astrologers
Will declare, knowing the course of the luminaries of heaven,
What would be a year need
Youngsters brainless hats and pants
What say you, before we part,
Where and with whom will I go now to wander.