And linnets are plenty, thistles rife—
Or an acorn-cup to catch dew drops in it
There’s ample promise of further life
Now, mark how we begin it.
For linnets will follow, if linnets are minded,
As blows the white-feather parachute;
And ships will reel by the tempest blinded—
Ay, ships, and shiploads of men to boot!
How deep whole fleets you’ll find hid.
And we blow the thistle-down hither and thither