Must we all in grovel wallow Like to bisons in a bog — Must we call him an Apollo If he is not quite a hog? - Victor Daley

The narrow, thorny path he trod. "Enter into My joy," said God.
The sad ascetic shook his head; "I've lost all taste for joy," he said.

Long ago I did discover It was fine to be a lover,
But the heartache and the worry spoil the game: Now I think, like an old vandal, That the game's not worth the candle—
And I know some other vandals think the same.

I make or mar. My daring hand
Explores the entrails of the land,
And finds, beneath a greasy hat,
An Austral Homer at Cow Flat.