A temperament
not for the sane,
where tumult undulates
through an indolent sea,
doth all such little vessels pray
for such solemnity.
But how hast
wizened men with mournful eyes
keep that which is integrity,
when no sun is above,
lest ashen skies
and gray has huddles
to touch all he be?
(For holy, he has thought, is all calamity!)
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