Apt shallowness delights you so. To him your are A weighty chain to bear. And in the sweet curling sweet, We spindle love from false love. To round faced angels, A weighty chain to bear. I measure folly And measure out mania. But you take your fill To see me starve in your wake. This halves; This quarters and bends. What idle strapping lad Who calls you from the trees And sees you better than I. It is a weighty chain to bear.