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