Leaves naked to the wolves; let them,
And such as they their spells essay;
So gloom on gloom its powers may try
In dull discordant rivalry,
Mates of the worm and tomb; not you
Gay playthings of the sun and wind,
Too long familiar and too kind.
Yet Life’s warm garment closest clings
When most we strive to strip it; flings
Its mantle round us; ever tries