Poor William, it was not so then, nor now.
The Devil take the hindmost it has been.
The world was rude and rough and wracked with sin,
As bloody, Blake, as lust and hate allow.
To think on it is fantasy. O how
The good old days will always take us in,
Where sanity and righteousness still win
And men are Men, and women softly bow.
Believe me, Blake,how dull it always seems
If saints be masters, sinners penitent,
All goody-good and wrapped in brotherhood.
It would have been to angels such bad dreams
To see an earth like heaven's sacred tent,
God's work complete, and Mankind done for good!
Jay Cohen