And fury and force of swift bright shuddering flame:
Fate, that is foe to love and lovely life,
Yea foe implacable, and hath death to wife;
Fate, that is bitterer than the salt spray blown
And colder than soft snow yet hard as stone;
Fate, that makes daily fare of heart’s desire,
Being found thereunto a devouring fire:
Death, that is friend to fate and fair love’s foe;
Death, that makes waste the wolds of life with snow;
Death, harsh as spray of seas that wild winds blow: