With shapes and colours rife,
Bound dizzily—mistake my end, to slake Thy thirst.
“So, take and use Thy work,
Amend what flaws may lurk,
What strain o’ the stuff, what warpings past the aim!
My times be in Thy hand!
Perfect the cup as planned!
Let age approve of youth, and death complete the same.”
So the time passed, and an hour seemed no time. They moved to the piano, and sang Browning’s songs, after his poetry. Dallington had a good voice, and he sang one after another, concluding with
“So the year’s done with!