If I Am Going To Be A

Give But A Grain Of The Heart's Rich Seed, Confine Some Under Cover, And When Love Goes, Bid Him God-speed. And Find Another Lover.

Ever At Thy Glowing Altar Must My Heart Grow Sick And Falter, Wishing He I Served Were Black.

Whatever Lives Is Granted Breath But By The Grace And Sufferance Of Death.

Lord, Forgive Me If My Need Sometimes Shapes A Human Creed.

We Shall Not Always Plant While Others Reap