When one with t'other straightaway agrees
When masons clutch the breath we held on loan
Her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
'Ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
The North Wind Bites into his architrave
The fertile mother changelings drops like kings
As sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
The genealogist with field and fess
And starve the sniveling baby like a dog
Socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
On fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
The best of all things to an end must come