I shake in his lives.
When can you see the life –
not short, nor long, nor eternal, but fair?
Summer’s gold is dimmed.
Men shall fade and you can brag all of this,
or rough the summer’s fair complexion.
Eyes shall breathe in.
Every so often your darling gives his untrimmed possession to eternal
Compare that sometime date to time lines; to grow as a day buds.
Do temperate summer winds wander by this long shade of you?
Or shall you lease, and owe, and sometime lose?
May shines too hot and more, of course, from nature’s fair eye.
You are a lovely changing heaven.
And so, too, his death declines you.