Tomytortoisechronos lee hamilton add
Thou vague dumb crawler with the groping head, As listless to the sun as to the showers, Thou very image of the wingless hours, Now creeping past me with their feet of lead. For thee and me the same small garden bed Is the whole world, the same half-life as ours. And year by year as fate restricts my powers, I grow more like thee, and the soul grows
dead. No, tortoise, from thy like in days of old Was made the living liar. The mighty strings span the green shell With pure vibrating gold. The notes soared up on strong but trembling wings Through aether's lower zones, Then growing bold, spurned earth forever And its wingless things.
