- I am not wet or in the grasp of fear -
on fields of plenty rain casts its yawn,
'tis enough for now to feel safe here.
the vile and ugly laws promised ere
left behind by this mute world of peace,
the rare moment God can calm despair
I could at once renounce this quiet lease.
tamed and bovine Sunday solitude
the day slouches over tired plains
clouds gray and white and hued subdued,
it's mere vain to think there'd be more gain.
granted and given all did suffice,
when time comes to pale and dark take leave,
it is this lawn that frees my vise
no longer having to grieve or heave.
