Let Them Not Make Me

In My Own Prejudice.. I Would Have Of A Poet...whose Worlds Would Not Be Too Esoteric..fond Of Talking....capable Of Pity And Laughter..appreciative Of Womem..involved In Personal Relationships...susceptible To Physical Impressions

It's No Go My Honey Love, It's No Go My Poppet;work Your Hands From Day To Day, The Winds Will Blow The Profit.the Glass Is Falling Hour By Hour, The Glass Will Fall For Ever,but If You Break The Bloody Glass You Won't Hold Up The Weather.

I Was The Rector's Son, Born To The Anglican Order, Banned For Ever From The Candles Of The Irish Poor; The Chichesters Knelt In Marble At The End Of A Transept With Ruffs About Their Necks, Their Portion Sure.

I Am Not Yet Born; O Hear Me. Let Not The Bloodsucking Bat Or The Rat Or The Stoat Or The Club-footed Ghoul Come Near Me.

None Of Our Hearts Are Pure, We Always Have Mixed Motives. Are Self Deceivers, But The Worst Of All Deceits Is To Murmur 'lord, I Am Not Worthy' And, Lying Easy, Turn Your Face To The Wall.