For nameless things I learn through long delay,
On this strait bed where I perforce must lie.
I learn of life-in-death; I learn the blight
Of seeing my soul and body slow decay,
Hemmed in with white-walled nothingness. The flight
Of vagrant flies, the sunlight’s sluggish way
Of crawling on—yes, even the shadows gray
Help tease the laggard moments loathly by.
Since great are none, small things my pain allay
On this strait bed where I perforce must lie.