Grass-fern'd melancholia brightly sprigs
In raisin-night indigo cracked
Not but flared and flared stupendous rigs,
Throws-of-maces, or souls giving back
A bunsen burner cared by them sick;
Or autumn's birth stole gold lead-adapt
Greyed greater than any pyramid
Where Zeus' mere tantrum charmed a-rapt;
A wispy zoo of acrobatics
Angels warr'ng for love on earth adapt.
Wheels did roll behind as heads once did
Skin-turned from inside, threatened mere snaps
How fear often did and last fail hid,
Hence injury by the first hangman's
Randomly ordained their ransoms' plead.
As touch-me-nots' reactive substance
Spare, each fan a-closed, down above lead
And reflective a herb greeted tons
Grown besides th' volcanic cause, of course.
This did the fatal frame our windows
Throw our brothers out with us off course.
Lost are those true, 'n kindlier meadows
Who think not they are, nor knows recourse.
May life-then--like parsons, a warder--
Befall you, grass-cut, like falling snow.