I saw the blooming day above,
The rippling waves - below,
like the hoping, splendid dove,
  sat upon the branched willow.

I could not conjure any strength,
My famous steadfast heart,
gone, like ebb at Perth,
and passed like fame of art.

The splendor of my life,
Has vanished in a blink,
And all that's left is strife,
deep sorrow drenched in drink.

Deceptive outward manner,
demeanor fast and sure,
the suns resplendent banner,
hides my ache in ruin.

I wish I had a clue,
as to what to do,
but now out of the blue,
An iridescent view,
I drink out of a shoe,
A pint of sinners brew.