And May We Find When

Man With His Burning Soul Has But An Hour Of Breath To Build A Ship Of Truth In Which His Soul May Sail- Sail On The Sea Of Death. For Death Takes Toll Of Beauty, Courage, Youth, Of All But Truth.

To Most Of Us The Future Seems Unsure. But Then It Always Has Been; And We Who Have Seen Great Changes Must Have Great Hopes.

Humans Consist Of Body, Mind And Imagination. Our Bodies Are Faulty, Our Minds Untrustworthy, But Our Imagination Has Made Us Remarkable.

All I Ask Is A Tall Ship And A Star To Sail Her By.

The Thames Is A Wretched River After The Mersey And The Ships Are Not Like Liverpool Ships And The Docks Are Barren Of Beauty ... It Is A Beastly Hole After Liverpool; For Liverpool Is The Town Of My Heart And I Would Rather Sail A Mudflat There Than Command A Clipper Out Of London