The House Of Delusions Is Cheap To

Poetry Is Not The Thing Said, But The Way Of Saying It.

White In The Moon The Long Road Lies, The Moon Stands Blank Above; White In The Moon The Long Road Lies That Leads Me From My Love. Still Hangs The Hedge Without A Gust, Still, Still The Shadows Stay: My Feet Upon The Moonlit Dust Pursue The Ceaseless Way. The World Is Round, So Travellers Tell, And Straight Through Reach The Track, Trudge On, Trudge On, 'twill All Be Well, The Way Will Guide One Back. But Ere The Circle Homeward Hies Far, Far Must It Remove: White In The Moon The Long Road Lies That Leads Me From My Love.

Oh, 'tis Jesting, Dancing, Drinking Spins The Heavy World Around.

I Sought Them Far And Found Them, The Sure, The Straight, The Brave, The Hearts I Lost My Own To, The Souls I Could Not Save They Braced Their Belts About Them, They Crossed In Ships The Sea, They Sought And Found Six Feet Of Ground, And There They Died For Me.

Oh Who Is That Young Sinner With The Handcuffs On His Wrist? And What Has He Been After That They Groan And Shake Their Fists? And Wherefore Is He Wearing Such A Conscience-stricken Air? Oh They're Taking Him To Prison For The Colour Of His Hair.