… So take a happy view –
This lawn graced with the candle-flames of crocus,
Frail-handed girls under the flowering chestnut,
Or anything will do
That time takes back before it seems untrue:
And, if the truth were told,
You’d count it luck, perceiving in what shallow
Crevices and few crumbling grains of comfort
Man’s joy will seed, his cold
And hardy fingers find an eagle’s hold.