And
the cruel love
Of
the blind betrayal
And
the mild belief
Of
the dark cloud
And
the faded moonlight
Of
the mad sanity
And
the regular eccentric
Of
the painful sob
And
the faint smile
Of
the strong dislike
And
the weak passion
Of
the cozy frost
And
the shivering warmth
Of
the ideal gibe
And
the awkward hug
Of
the long gospel
And
the short sight
And
the dry rain
Of
the harsh censure
And
the soft acceptance
Of
the brazen knowledge
And the
shy wisdom
Let
us not be extinct in the former
But live
in the footprints of the latter
For
the ocean knows that the drops are not lost
But
grow onto making itself.