Love’s Protest
Here sir, my theses planted ’pon thine door,
And thereabouts spread in solemn protest,
So plainly posted that ye canst ignore,
’Less Reason slips and ye be self-possessed.
No more! No more pardons! No more remits!
Great th’ excuses grow as affection wanes,
Thine lavish charity cannot acquit,
What self-same evils ye too judge profane.
Confess! Admit self-serving profits none,
That the needy first requires ye come last,
Demands ye indulge others ’til undone,
And rightly earn the good morrow’s repast.
Abandon I, thine church, o’er these reforms,
If goodwill dies and self-love ’comes the norm.
-Q-
@WindsPoetic
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