The sky is blue Bluer still the sea And balloons beat bashfully on the sand. Save for the Halcyon's sick sleep And papers fluttering in the wind There's nothing nuisant in the air. I sit near the strand and read aloud "Far from the madding crowd..." The girl I loved is five fathom down... And instead of her eyes you know what you can find. I'm bound to imageries(though men live and die) The girl I loved is dead and if you"look in my face" Terrible things you find. So it's enough to pretend! I have read that gray Elegy, Were it not for Shakespeare's sake I,too,were full fathom five down the deep.