A Soldier's Song

Now, feasting over, we Are like spent utensils ... Rattled in a bowl And all the water is all run away.

For though it’s true that we were lovers once, Now we can see it is no longer so, For predators make less good friends, Than those on whom they prey (12) Omen One - one wearing a lace bodice Has met with one One - one wearing a black shawl.

(13) Flight I carry bricks for ballast Lest I become so light That I fly away When praises blow For I have found It is better so.