(this is, i hope, the beginning of something good)

such fear of death he seeks to borrow,
so he, he may yet have the morrow.
But only ye too soon to sorrow
brings the morrow to the fore

(then some more in between)


the clouds will darken, roll and rumble,
though now, however bright and humble.
The day will yet fall, roll and tumble,
into darkness; forevermore!