The Teasers

Not but they die, the teasers and the dreams,

Not but they die,

and tell the careful flood

To give them what they clamour for and why.

You could not fancy where they rip to blood

You could not fancy

nor that mud

I have heard speak that will not cake or dry.

Our claims to act appear so small to these

Our claims to act

colder lunacies

That cheat the love, the moment, the small fact.

Make no escape because they flash and die,

Make no escape

build up your love,

Leave what you die for and be safe to die.