Until death end you? if indeed it does.
For what it does, none knows. Yet as for you,
You’ll hardly have the courage to die outright;
You’ll somehow halve even it. Methinks I see you,
Through everlasting limbos of void time,
Twirling and twiddling ineffectively,
And indeterminately swaying for ever.
Come, come, spoon-meat at any rate.
Well, well,
I will not persecute you more, my friend.