Like figures in some stately dance

The years spin out their fatuous rime

We marionettes gyrate and prance

Held - flies in the amber gripe of time

Days spin away as we enraptured float

And bathe in the emerging sun of morn

As leaves on some great river's aqueous bloat

We fail to mark the ripening of the corn

Sere Winter leaps upon us like some beast

That from life's densest thicket springs his trap

His icy spears seek out the naked breast

 

And Chronos finds us then bereft of breath.

 

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