The Path Untrodden

The dark of night can breathless be When two-backed beasts burst forth in bed. Our sleep is banished till the morn: We innocence must mourn instead. The bright of day can breathless be And thoughts a frenzied locust-swarm Of winged ideas and notions blurred. A hunger raw hath stirred a storm. The dark of night can breathless be When avid thirsts again unmet Upset a true attachment strong And longing shapes anew regret. The bright of day can breathless be When lands unknown are travelled through. No goal, our purpose sole to wend: No end but to the end eschew.