Au contraire, me lady, the opposite be true, to rise at dusk and rest at dawn so be his hearte be ever knawn , as the cruel found rays break the frown , of brows exposing wisdom’s crown, the ages on its fore head thrown , pray to ,forge its massive throne of gathered moss on the lawn
for just this one day’s corpse’s a faun.
For hidden from light of day he much feare , and doth yet desire,
then may , turn leary dungeons, nay, to day , as ages’ olde may, to nights of fire.