MY future copy fair my past
On any leaf but heavens. Be fully done
Supernal ill ! I fain be one
isfying t and breaking fast,
Upon t at last
Says no grace after meat. My wine has run
Indeed out of my cup, and there is none
to gat
Scattered and trampled; yet I find some good
In eartreams t bubble up
Clear from tent until
I sit ter food: --
Dear C ! wage fills my cup,
t wine spill