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"Songs of a Muse's Slave"
by C.Frederick Shelley

BROTHERHOOD

No man should be on trial
His crime to search for truth-
To climb from thoughs of youth
Which his endoctrination
Taught him was salvation.
Inner goodness is the greatest theme
Around which to build an earthly scheme.
The wind tries to explain
As does the falling rain
That the greatest good
Must be eternal brotherhood.

I feel that it's my duty
To find whiteness in the dove,
Tightness in friendship's beauty
And a brightness known as love
For I hold faith and worth
In treasures here on earth-
Not in the things we see and touch
As these things don't matter much
Unless life's blood runs warm and free
In them as it does in me.

WHO KNOWS

I find life is not white
Nor is it black today
In order to be right
One should call it grey.
Well we get peace or fire
Up or down when we retire
Could not hell be full of ice
Or heaven not be paradise?
Will we climb the might stair
To those pearly gates up there
Who can say who hasn't been
Surely not our mortal men.

THE LOGIC LESSON
 
How can one say all swans are white
Not having seen all in the universe This surely cannot be right They can't be counted and what's worse Even if all swans you've seen Coulnd't one someday be green?

THE RATIONALISTS

You must take a stand, my lad
Choose not what seems the most appealing
When deciding what's good or bad
Apply the sense and shun the feeling

THE ROAD BUMS

In a box-car and huddled together
Two old road-bums were under the weather.
With the back of thier sleeves
They wiped their noses
and drank from a bottle
Of Old Red Roses.
Long and long I watched them there-
bums on the road to anywhere.
Time and time they tipped the wine
and wiped their mouths after,
One sneezed and the ohter coughed-
Then I heard their laughter.
One lay down on the wooden floor
and very soon began to snore.
The other turned up his collar
and stared outside, as if to think.
Long he looked out the open door,
Then shook his head and took a drink.
The night wind was sharp and it was cold
As out of the station the S.P. rolled.
Loud and long I heard it chug and blow
Yes, and sad was I to see it go.

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