Oh Some Are Fond Of Spanish Wine,

The Thames Is A Wretched River After The Mersey And The Ships Are Not Like Liverpool Ships And The Docks Are Barren Of Beauty ... It Is A Beastly Hole After Liverpool; For Liverpool Is The Town Of My Heart And I Would Rather Sail A Mudflat There Than Command A Clipper Out Of London

My Road Leads Me Seawards To The White Dipping Sails.

Humans Consist Of Body, Mind And Imagination. Our Bodies Are Faulty, Our Minds Untrustworthy, But Our Imagination Has Made Us Remarkable.

It's A Warm Wind, The West Wind, Full Of Birds' Cries; I Never Hear The West Wind But Tears Are In My Eyes. For It Comes From The West Lands, The Old Brown Hills, And April's In The West Wind, And Daffodils.

It May Be That We Cease; We Cannot Tell. Even If We Cease, Life Is A Miracle.