Experience shows me that I write
More like the Bible when I'm tight,
And Providence has seen that wine
Rhymes, chimes and puns well with Divine.

That little poem that you read
Had much more in it than I said,
For it was written when in booze,
And not intended to amuse.

I thought that when I talked of flies
(Did it really make you grin?)
You'd see I mean to moralize
On Age and Death, on Souls and Sin.

Those insects were memento mori,
The deeper meaning of my story.
I'm shocked and sad to find that you
Of all the critics missed a clue.

I offered you an allegory,
Of Dirt and Soap, of Wheat and Chaff;
It's clear we never shall agree
While Saintly fables make you laugh.