Though Man would harness wind and sun
The few can to their dreams return…
The variety of textures both rugged and divine
The Other -we have come to fear
to worship as sublime
A common sight, a glorious scene
How sad, how happy, life can seem
Though we have grown to love this place
What joys, what sorrows, we must face
Juxtaposing the worst and best
Pedestrian prose, immortal verse.
Contending powers of love and hate
We can but for the morning wait…