Twice hardly could I believe mine eyes
As old sunset did arise
To and fro, the honeysuckle morn
That brought the nascent-sparkling dawn
So surely did I meet
The words so concrete
As grass and dew held sway
And all old scrolls had no delay
For beauty was the mare on which I rode
As the buck-toothed medallion began to corrode
Overlapping streams of great renown
All seeking the final ivory crown
In pillars of smoke, bellows of grass
The hastened steps of many a mass
Send their prayers to remorseful wind
For a useless chance to begin
The rhythms of Eunoia did spring
As the new decrepit moon was beginning