Iain

All of you make jokes, don't disturb my waves, worry if I’ll cope, never stoop to choose, or firmly swim away, think how much you’ll lose, you are not dopes, to encourage easy ways, as if you had no scope, if you want good news, let others stand and gape, what I say is true, because you moan and mope, note every bitter phase, down every coming slope, it won’t separate the numbers, for distant tides or sail, ships can leave without you, some things can’t be undone, never is too late, to face you here alone I would call it grace.