Vain Wisdom All, And False Philosophy.

With Cowslips Wan That Hang The Pensive Head, And Every Flower That Sad Embroidery Wears.

Come To The Sunset Tree! The Day Is Past And Gone; The Woodman's Axe Lies Free, And The Reaper's Work Is Done.

But Now My Task Is Smoothly Done, I Can Fly, Or I Can Run Quickly To The Green Earth's End, Where The Bow'd Welkin Slow Doth Bend, And From Thence Can Soar As Soon To The Corners Of The Moon.

Time Will Run Back And Fetch The Age Of Gold.

What Am I Pondering, You Ask? So Help Me God, Immortality.