In which delighted thought upon a rising day
The ruffl`d sky concealed moving sordidly
The crimson face obscured forgoing it`s azure
I salute a Young friend blissful time.
The year that is sighing to naught ve ry now;
I commend the exuberant spirit with praises
That seem in a poetic tongue mused to bow
Painting evocations of the next year with bliss.
The ivy-spirit belittling Winter`s wrought
And mocking the scorching blaze of Summer;
Shall persist with heavier times soon to come,
Showing no mercy to hindrances later to bear.
Fraught with rhapsody to a friend,
Yet to shine I wish him good.
