Wearisome nights and months of burdening woe.
I would not alway live this loathed life
Whose days are vanity. Soon shall I sleep
Low in the dust, and when the morning comes
And thro' its curtaining mists ye seek my face
I shall not be."
Earnest the Shuhite spake,
"How long shall these thy words, like eddying winds
Fall empty on the ear?