A Dew sufficed itself –
And satisfied a Leaf –
And thought “How vast a Destiny”!
“How trivial is Life!”
The Sun went out to work –
The Day went out to play
But not again that Dew be seen
By Physiognomy –
Whether by Day abducted –
Or emptied by the Sun
Into the Sea – in passing –
Eternally unknown.
Attested to this Day
That awful Tragedy
By Transport’s instability
And Doom’s celerity.