 | My Lyrical Life |  |
THE FALSIFYERS OF MYTHOLOGY.
You ask to have the Children's souls, in pledge
That these shall only bear your kind of fruit,
Who are but dead sticks in the living hedge,
Rotten from lack of root!
That these shall only bear your kind of fruit,
Who are but dead sticks in the living hedge,
Rotten from lack of root!
Let England lift her hand to scratch her head
Consideringly, Your hold's not worth a pin
Who are dead scuf outside the skull, instead
Of living brain within!
Consideringly, Your hold's not worth a pin
Who are dead scuf outside the skull, instead
Of living brain within!
| My Lyrical Life | |