105

For many hawks are plunging Upon the summer air, And still the mice are creeping, And still the world is fair. A necessary evil Is portioned to the heart; We might as well acknowledge The devil from the start And know the hasty blossom As swiftly will decay, While others flowers are waiting To grace a forward day. It is foolish to have wisdom And folly to be blind; To see and take and question Must nourish any mind; Reserve a quiet judgement Until the heart is old, When fewer words are needed Before the tale is told.