The Ditch is dear to the Drunken man
For is it not his Bed —
His Advocate — his Edifice?
How safe his fallen Head
In her disheveled Sanctity —
Above him is the sky —
Oblivion bending over him
And Honor leagues away.
The Ditch is dear to the Drunken man
For is it not his Bed —
His Advocate — his Edifice?
How safe his fallen Head
In her disheveled Sanctity —
Above him is the sky —
Oblivion bending over him
And Honor leagues away.