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.