i can’t help but wonder about this man in the sky.
but not the one who sits on the moon,
fishing into the murky depths below,
or some famous astronaut. ...
Sometimes, to solace my sad heart, I say,
Though late it be, though lily-time be past,
Though all the summer skies be overcast,
Haply I will go down to her, some day,
And cast my rests of life before her feet,
That she may have her will of me, being so sweet
And none gainsay!