Of its burdens and morrow
Dwindling down a hallow descent,
Gallivanting as all common folk,
In a torrent to grow hoary hair as eld,
Shuddering of water sopping soak,
Me found myself a laggard spirit of no boast,
Withering away of a callow storm unguided,
Hereby a crestfallen kindred, wholly to host,
Upon a pilgrim dark and dim, fully crowded.
Yet finding the air fruitful as my persistence,
To hereabout go forth in the light courageous,
To abide of some decreed of all existence,
As maybe funny farces would sub side rages.
Lo! As an orchard blossoming upon the heath,
Hereafter out we step to kindle a swift breathe.