Language That Tells Us, Through A More

Your Dollar Is Your Only Word, / The Wrath Of It Your Only Fear. / You Build It Altars Tall Enough / To Make You See, But Your Are Blind; / You Cannot Leave It Long Enough / To Look Before You Or Behind.

The World Is A Kind Of Spiritual Kindergarten Where Millions Of Bewildered Infants Are Trying To Spell "god" With The Wrong Blocks.

Two Kinds Of Gratitude: The Sudden Kind We Feel For What We Take; The Larger Kind We Feel For What We Give.

Poets And Kings Are But The Clerks Of Time, Tiering The Same Dull Webs Of Discontent, Clipping The Same Sad Alnage Of The Years.

Ah, When Shall Come Love's Courage To Be Strong! Tell Me, O Lord--tell Me, O Lord, How Long Are We To Keep Christ Writhing On The Cross!