I am told that the following poem is by John Cooper. The signature leads me to believe otherwise, that it was John’s brother, C. Walter Cooper, who typed it. Judging by the embossed letterhead (E.R. Campbell 207-208 Porter Bldg. Woodland, Cal.), character of the typeface, and time the brothers lived, the poem was likely written prior to the first world war. Original punctuation and spelling are present.

SONG OF THE LUSTFUL.

Bring me grapes whose, fiery juice
All my pent up soul shall loose.
Bring me foam capped amber goblets,
Overflown with liquid mirth.
Let the night consume the day;
Suns and moons pass swift away;
Let my life fade into pleasure;
I am lustful, – of the earth.

Let me chose myself a dame,
Snowy-bosomed, dreamy eyed;
Let our love to new creations
Every blissful hour give rise.
Locked in passion’s close caress,
Let us find forgetfulness.
What care I for high flown morals?
I am lustful, – of the earth.

Ye who list to moral’s call,
Waste your lives and pleasures all;
When your eyes in death are glazing,
What are former morals worth?
They who are in earnest lose:
Let me love and drink forever.
I am lustful, – Of the earth.

Muchas gracias para su attencion.
Don Carlos.