So I’ll claim for me an ocean space,
And I’ll drop the vessels chain,
Stake the value of my position for you:
Life will never be different again.
Against the wishes of known fellows,
Who worked and played and filled my bed,
I’ve justified a final choice,
Despite what sheep have said.
This will be my corner of forever England,
Containing all I’ll ever know,
Behind me lie all my life’s ambitions,
Ahead the reaper’s show.
Contentment falls and canvasses
The views of whoever heard,
Best to avoid the complications
Of a misrepresented word.
So if communion offers you the chance
I suggest you take the bread,
As fortune has allowed me the grace
To breed with myself instead.
And the vestige of what world remains
Has confused the overwrought,
So before I close my eyes once more
I’ll ascribe this lasting thought:
We should never wonder what becomes
Of other anchor chains,
Breathe life like any separatist,
It will never be again…
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