A fool i was to rest on beauty,
        To lean my back on gratitude,
On just a sight and nothing but
   Just a sight of what i cannot
Do nothing but please.
A sight i must not fail but keep;
   Even in distress of my own plaque,
I would walk; the walk of shame
And sway around in all-forsaken blame.
I would swift to and fro from my sleep;
At dark more at noon, All i see was beauty:-
      But now the wheels are tick and slow,
I will sling not my hook to beauty but sing
Along with true heart.


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