Shot forth, with sighs, burning;—grieved hearts’ crater-stones.
Complaints, contradictions, petitions, like words,
Now literal, then keen metaphors, sharp as swords.
The drowning, ’tis known to each one who breath draws,
To save threatened life, will, though vain, grasp at straws;
In hopes that some aid to his rescue will come,
He struggles, he flounders, he thinks of his home.275
His sweetheart takes pleasure his struggles to see;
An effort’s more noble than despondency.
A bridegroom is, surely, not quite free from cares.