Once having cast me in this little mold,
So soon to draw me from the first hot fires
Of youth and zeal, and cooled and made me old
And hard with care for all the task requires;
Once having set my steps within this track
Whose stony sides grow sheerer either side
The farther on I go, where turning back
Is every foot less easily thought or tried;
How now, at this late date, will you demand
That I grow malleable, liquid, free; enlarged
To bolt my bounds, to quit the course, disband
The circle, slough the loves with which I’m charged?
In leaving loves, one finds the road may lead
Where other loves soon other leavings need.