Sitcom Virtues of Harmony, Part II
The old year now away is fled and volted ruins
unbetter. Some frail jet drives feeble
to teach cities the old, hot earnest
and you and your head to double the noise.
What bite is ours! Look hard to our fields
and wash well your pavements.
Secretaries! Princes out of breath!
Come to call by snares, by network,
by votes against the swallow.
Well and wise, my chiefest guest
offers the oil and eyelids
that the goat-worth trouble is gained,
but perfidy abandoned, repair prolonged,
he learned to earn and how to own.
O Ultra-Sheer Human-Wish!
Shut against us, the remedy
is ventured less, not by want of concord
or sovereign prayers, but thus the heirs
themselves do emulate.
Strike through, benefactors,
that I might eat and sleep
the marked words by manner anointed
to that which they whipped you.
One not ought be made to honor
to judge well, but the machinery,
Madam, to that you must bend.