No finish, no eye
Without a simpler gift
To know a better city, when wry
The hours until pasts have decency, to lift

Itself to a plane of exasperation
Powers in love, with know, a callous sorts
To a windier start to fame, than the next generation
Shown the spill of light, that limits time to such's force

Prayers in found voice, with a clue
Kind come, and the dread of sincerity
Finished with justice, and the cool liberty we soon
The tows of might, are one to find here, with reality

The truth in a handful of bared kindred
Sakes alive, the turn of vice into a sour couth
To know and to love, with the sides of fewer lead
Than fewer meant, to keep a share of what we knew, youth

Young races, younger eyes
Paces and places of virtue, with the time
To predilect a so, with a soul for sigh's
Long in looks and posed to continue in courage, is a world ours, for  trying?