Better to shoulder what will be, Whether you soon will die, or stay To watch the shore exhaust the sea. So drink some wine while your hours flee, Put small trust in posterity, And prune your hopes - but pluck the day. We wonder, hope, but do not know. Yet looking closely the mind discerns That, even when our sun goes dark, In the molten core a fire burns, Ignited by an ageless spark. We are all familiar, I should say, with the way geese gaggle, Bees swarm, and oxen yoke - the way that sheep and seagulls straggle When they unwisely stray from their appointed flock.
Animals guard secrets their fancy names unlock.
To begin, we know that a group is made of ones who muster, And our animal friends gain fantastic names when they cluster - Like the nightingales, who en masse become a watch. Hounds are mute and the woodcocks fall 'midst the clutter of the cats While the herons' siege runs strong, sounder than the swine. Pride, all but the lions know, is commonly counted a sin - A plague of locusts on your house if you let such vices in As peacock ostentation and the sloth of bears.