From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
For tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
Old corned-beef's rusty armour spreads disease
One gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
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 fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
And starve the sniveling baby like a dog
Socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
With marble souvenirs then fill a slum
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb