Do not climb kindly into that grave dusk,

Do not climb kindly into that grave dusk,
broke truth should glow and rave at close of day;
howl, howl against the yielding of the sky.
Though pure fools at their end know love is deep,
Because their chambers had earned no joy they
Do not climb kindly into that grave dusk,
grave fools, the best blast by, crying how true
Their woeful words might have growned in a lush wood,
howl, howl against the yielding of the sky.
rash fools who led and urged the ark in praise,
And learn, too well, they grieved it on its way,
Do not climb kindly into that grave dusk,
sick fools, in pain, who see with painful touch
failed trust could fume like fountains and be real,
howl, howl against the yielding of the sky.
And you, my dear friend, there on the old hill,
chide, grace, me now with your bright lips, I pray.
Do not climb kindly into that grave dusk,
howl, howl against the yielding of the sky.

Crunch!