Dear Mother, Dear Mother, The

Art Degraded, Imagination Denied.

Piping Down The Valleys Wild, Piping Songs Of Pleasant Glee, On A Cloud I Saw A Child, And He Laughing Said To Me: "pipe A Song About A Lamb." So I Piped With Merry Cheer; "piper, Pipe That Song Again." So I Piped; He Wept To Hear.

I Am Really Sorry To See My Countrymen Trouble Themselves About Politics. If Men Were Wise, The Most Arbitrary Princes Could Not Hurt Them. If They Are Not Wise, The Freest Government Is Compelled To Be A Tyranny. Princes Appear To Me To Be Fools. Houses Of Commons And Houses Of Lords Appear To Me To Be Fools; They Seem To Me To Be Something Else Besides Human Life.

Where Lambs Have Nibbled, Silent Moves The Feet Of Angels Bright; Unseen They Pour Blessing, And Joy Without Ceasing, On Each Bud And Blossom, And Each Sleeping Bosom.

The Vision Of Christ That Thou Dost See Is My Vision's Greatest Enemy.