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A moment while I determine myself.

Lay us a further note upon the bar.

My hope to you, proud friend, and

What's more of it God give you health,

And Mr. Creeley I withdraw, modest,

A modest word that I had gone too far.

Your muttonchops cannot err in respect

Of my comportment. So, good night to you.

Last of the pier against the dark window :

Last of my breath blown soft into the flask.

We do only what all the others do,

Given half an allowance of our self,

To stir, and may it be beyond it go.

And it is in that spirit that I pass

Among you brave dragoons, that watch

My body so well, that keep me before

The time should come. Watch the fire, sir,

That it not dwindle in your hands! Be sure

I will address you a measure tonight,

If I make it up Cavendish's stairs.

Or halfway only, father bless his might

That takes me damaged up to sleep.

I will not for the station or I will

Not find freedom there. I am thirsty here,

In my lightest clothes, Lord, still.

Now down the pier and we again shall drink.

Keep you Creeley, friend, and may he you keep.