And I, unheeded, offer you mere truth.
BALLADE FOR MORALISTS
Sing me a lilting, laughing song,
Some spritely, springtime roundelay,
That’s not too burdensome or long ...
That hasn’t got too much to say.
O sing of goblin, elf or fay,
And deck your verse with imagery
Just this remember: Make it gay ...
O poet, do not preach to me!