That turned the swinging universe:
'Twas gloomy as an empty purse.
Often with heaven in his head,
He blundered on a planet dead.
And when with an immortal fuss,
He singed his wings at Sirius.
He plucked the feather with his teeth,
The charm was potent and beneath,
He saw the turmoil of the way
Grown wilder at the close of day,