Defer not limply to these wrappings, heart,
As here you loiter in the curdled dark.
The freshly strewn light has withdrawn in part
But with the morning ballad of the lark
It shall revive and with its poultice press
Upon the young day in merciful haste.
On midnight’s naked pleats, the wintercress
Abided sunrise. Now, with flowers taste
The dawn’s deliverance. Guzzle from its wide
Ravine and wholly will the thirst subside.
