MY future  copy fair my past

    On any leaf but heavens. Be fully done

    Supernal ill ! I  fain be one

    isfying t and breaking fast,

    Upon t at last

    Says no grace after meat. My wine has run

    Indeed out of my cup, and there is none

    to gat

    Scattered and trampled; yet I find some good

    In eartreams t bubble up

    Clear from tent until

    I sit ter food: --

    Dear C ! wage fills my cup,

    t wine spill