Classic Poem

Grrr — what's that? A dog? A poet?
Uttering his damnations thus —
If hate killed things, Brother Browning,
God's Word, would not hate kill us?

If we ever meet together,
Salve tibi! I might hear
How you know poor monks are really
So much worse than they appear.

There's a great text in Corinthians
Hinting that our faith entails
Something else, that never faileth,
Yet in you, perhaps, it fails.

But if plena gratia chokes you,
You at least can teach us how
To converse in wordless noises,
Hy, zi; hullo! — Grrr — Bow-wow!