Absent ever to turn thy gaze away; Vexed be— the pith of birth, erelong to thee. Death's grip he knows, linger in thy dismay; Prudence spoils himself, corrupt he be. Now stands the pyrrhonist with sights amiss, Of doom, of spite, of wayward enterprise; Oh be Nature, yes the timeless witness! Dawns veils of change— be man's greatest disguise. His heart decayed, prideful steps be thy walk. He wears thy crown like Ozymandias; Away amongst from thee Almighty God Dead was, dead th