MY first was ground beneath the oppressor’s wheel,
Subjected unto barbarous tyrannies;
With ears cut off, encaged in netted wire
Into a burning fiery furnace thrust.
My first take from my second, and my whole
Remains.
My second is a faithful friend.
Gaily with him across the moors I go
From morn to dewy eve.
I went one day
To visit an old man. Beside the fire
He sate. His well-loved pipe, made of my whole,
He smoked in calm and undisturbed content.