Hours and Seconds do pull forth beaming chariot and their master twain
Passengered to the fair Apollo, sweet nothings of May dare'st shake this dreamer from the dream that took him to heights of their heavenly lane
Wish I may, wish I might, get rid this heart-song that,
Humming in constancy, did steal true slumber yester-night.
For this dear gentle morn all stars of the world would shine less than I
Receiving lesser god’s bequeathals in such position as I lie
‘Sing not so abundantly, oh soul peace be still
Lest you upstage gaudy fowl that so highly does shrill.’
‘Rude one,’ I to myself do chide
‘Is it not enough that from that envious moon we must our feelings hide?
Nay, ruffle their feathers, their beaks, and suits too
These awful peacocks and pigeons would learn to trill if only they knew
Not the what or the why nor the how or the when
All these prideful creatures of mass routine need do is witness them this specimen
Then they too will become dreamers whose heart sings luridly throughout the day
All because they woke to sweet nothings of May