O Happy Dogs Of England,

This Is The Simplest Of All Thoughts, That Death Must Come When We Call, Although He Is A God.

I Like To See Cats In Movement. A Galloping Cat Is A Fine Sight. See It Cross The Road In A Streak, Cursed By The Drivers Of Motor Cars And Buses, Dodging The Butcher's Bicycle, Coming Safe To The Kerb And Bellying Under Its Home Gate.

The Human Creature Is Alone In His Carapace. Poetry Is A Strong Way Out.

O Happy Dogs Of England, Bark Well At Errand Boys, If You Lived Anywhere Else, You Would Not Be Allowed To Make Such An Infernal Noise.

Who Is This That Comes In Grandeur, Coming From The Blazing East? This Is He We Had Not Thought Of, This Is He The Airy Christ.