A chum had Elbert too; and, like my own,
A wild boy caged, who seem’d more wild at times
Through beating at his bars, a hapless wretch.
And when our happier love had flower’d in us,
Half pitying each other, half this chum,
Which pity grew, we both stood round, scarce loath
To note his own wild set inflating him
With well-blown whims that swell’d his empty pride
Forsooth, the better bubble he could be,
The better hope we two could have of what