Time Out

Hmm. Thats it. I have had enough for today. Lets forget the Tri-Axis of evil and the real great guys in the British National Party and take Time Out.

Lets have some poetry. I'll start it off with this one I read in that excellent book by Charles Kingsley - The Water Babies. Didn't really understand it then - I was nine so I just read it again.


Young and Old

When all the world is young, lad,
And all the trees are green;
And every goose a swan, lad,
And every lass a queen;
Then hey for boot and horse, lad,
And round the world away!
Young blood must have its course, lad,
And every dog his day.

When all the world is old, lad,
And all the trees are brown;
And all the sport is stale, lad,
And all the wheels run down;
Creep home, and take your place there,
The spent and maimed among;
God grant you find one face there,
You loved when all was young.


Feel free to post one if you have the urge. You might mention why you chose it.

Poetry is the breath and finer spirit of all knowledge