Whilst my muse in your shadows sought
The gift of the source of your nobler solitude!
Let me not retreat from your happy cleavage
Of youth and soul and merryment
For in the thick shade of your fruitful fate
I see a part of myself left there
As if the prize of our hidden stores of choice
In little choosing the ones we love
And sung to new anthems and skyes
For ladies like stars must shine the hidden shores
As brooding blooms of Spring shall in Summer blossom forth
We all have our time, our Goddess of days
And themes divine in human fortunes
That changes in perswading time
And to our glorious course we must divine
Our paths and witness and anticipate
The eyes of scattered truths and lost harmonies
And scarce winds that touched our face.
Wuji Seshat 