What’s in a name?
Rich, hemm’d thick all around with sailships and steamships, an island sixteen miles long, solid-founded,
Numberless crowded streets, high growths of iron, slender, strong, light, splendidly uprising toward clear skies,
Tides swift and ample, well-loved by me, toward sundown,
The flowing sea-currents, the little islands, larger adjoining islands, the heights, the villas,
The countless masts, the white shore-steamers, the lighters, the ferry-boats, the black sea-steamers well-model’d
Juliet’s nee Shakespeare’s, emphasis was on the rose. A rose by any other name, less sweet?
The rose was the aristocrat of the flowers, in, not English literature, but English kant and humbug, rhetoric, and House of Commons– and of Lords. The bicameral legislature, joined by the corpus callosum, in beautiful symbolism, injunction, and script, scrit, and grit,
Spam of Human Affection 
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