Under Saturn

DO not because this day I have grown saturnine

Imagine that lost love, inseparable from my thought

Because I have no other youth, can make me pine;

For how should I forget the wisdom that you brought

The comfort that you made? Although my wits have gone

On a fantastic ride, my horse's flanks are spurred

By childish memories of an old cross Pollexfen

And of a Middleton, whose name you never heard