Sonnet 146

Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth, 
[......] these rebel powers that thee array, 
Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth, 
Painting thy outward walls so costly gay? 
Why so large cost, having so short a lease, 
Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend? 
Shall worms, inheritors of this excess, 
Eat up thy charge? Is this thy body's end? 
Then soul, live thou upon thy servant's loss 
And let that pine to aggravate thy store; 
Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross; 
Within be fed, without be rich no more. 
So shalt thou feed on Death, that feeds on men, 
And, Death once dead, there's no more dying then.

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45109/sonnet-146-poor-soul-the-centre-of-my-sinful-earth

Drywall 石積み壁

libation 献酒
/ lɑɪbéɪʃən /

unequivocal 明白な

sleuth /sluːθ/ 探偵 snoop