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O Fearless wave, at bed
Of river gems are found.
What are the gifts of coast?
There dust and thorns abound.

The temper of lightning flash
That darts, my spark contains,
But still your bed of reeds
Is moist and sap retains.

The age in which you live
Is influenced by you:
To. Spheres that ever spin,
It can, no way be due.

I have come 'cross in life
Men with such craze and pluck
They could darn with much ease
The rents produced by Luck.

That man is toper fine,
Who owes, no debt to wine
Such men are very few,
They raise no cry or hue.

The East has taverns still
Where you can find such, wine,
Which makes perception dull
With grandeur gleam and shine.

Men with vision bright
For West have hope go slight
The hearts of West aren't chaste
For actions good haven't taste.

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