This Wild Swan Of A

They Import And They Consume Reality.

The Love Of Freedom Has Been The Quality Of Western Man.

The Tides Are In Our Veins, We Still Mirror The Stars, Life Is Your Child, But There Is In Me Older And Harder Than Life And More Impartial, The Eye That Watched Before There Was An Ocean.

Poetry Is Not A Civilizer, Rather The Reverse, For Great Poetry Appeals To The Most Primitive Instincts.

The World's In A Bad Way, My Man, And Bound To Be Worse Before It Mends; Better Lie Up In The Mountain Here Four Or Five Centuries, While The Stars Go Over The Lonely Ocean.