I am left simpler, less encumbered, by the consciousness that I shall by no pebble in my dirty sling avail
To slay one purple giant four feet high and distribute arms among his tall attendants, who spit at his name when spitting on the ground:
They will be found one day
Prone where they fell, or dead sitting --- and pock-marked wall
Supporting the beautiful back straight as an oak before it is old.
I have learned to fail. And I have had my say.
Yet shall I sing until my voice crack (this being my leisure, this my holiday)
That man was a special thing, and no commodity, a thing improper to be sold.