Those heady days
When Life and Love uncharted,
Were there to grasp, unthinking —
To defy the abandoned angelic way,
To dare, headlong, without design,
To rack and ruin, broken rhyme —
And then, in Time,
To survey your Desolated Land,
Strewn with crippled corpses, hand-in-hand,
Of Loves undone, and the One,
From Time you can’t reclaim.