I should be wise to suit my mood,
Not at the beck of other men:
God made as stupid as he could
The world--well, let me praise him then.
And if I make not straight my track,
But, far as may be, wind and bend,
That's how the sage begins his tack,
And that is how the fool will--end.
* * * * *
The world stands never still,
Night loves the glowing day--
Sweet sounds to ear "I will!"
And sweeter still "I may!"