The Solid Sprite Who Stands Alone

The solid sprite who stands alone, 
   And walks the world with equal stride, 
Grieve though he may, is not undone 
   Because a friend has died.

He knows that man is born to care, 
   And ten and threescore's all his span;
And this is comfort and to spare
   For such a level man.

He is not made like crooked me, 
   Who cannot rise nor lift my head, 
And all because what had to be
   Has been, what lived is dead;

Who lie among my tears and rust,
   And all because a mortal brain
That loved to think, is clogged with dust,
   And will not think again.