Do not, oh please don’t turn your back on me,
And trust me with your limbs for just another
Wee step, descend before you heed my plea:
No rungs, just up the one and down the other;
How pure the air of morning time can be.
You cannot forbid my arrival,
And though you may make me depart,
Returning am I when clouds gather high
Eclipsing the sun from your heart;
Or when you are lost in a tempest
Of heedless and dizzying mirth,
I come to remind you as subtly I blind you
To time in its glorious worth.