Heretics all, whoever you may be, <br /> In Tarbes or Nimes, or over the sea, <br /> You never shall have good words from me. <br /> Caritas non conturbat me. <br /> <br /> But Catholic men that live upon wine <br /> Are deep in the water, and frank, and fine; <br /> Wherever I travel I find it so, <br /> Benedicamus Domino. <br /> <br /> On childing women that are forelorn, <br /> And men that sweat in nothing but scorn: <br /> That is on all that ever were born, <br /> Miserere Domine. <br /> <br /> To my poor self on my deathbed, <br /> And all my dear companions dead, <br /> Because of the love that I bore them, <br /> Dona Eis Requiem.<br /><br />Hilaire Belloc<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/heretics-all/
