I

"Poor wanderer," said the leaden sky,

     "I fain would lighten thee,

But there are laws in force on high

     Which say it must not be."

II

--"I would not freeze thee, shorn one," cried

     The North, "knew I but how

To warm my breath, to slack my stride;

     But I am ruled as thou."

III

--"To-morrow I attack thee, wight,"

     Said Sickness. "Yet I swear

I bear thy little ark no spite,

     But am bid enter there."

IV

--"Come hither, Son," I heard Death say;

     "I did not will a grave

Should end thy pilgrimage to-day,

     But I, too, am a slave!"

V

We smiled upon each other then,

     And life to me had less

Of that fell look it wore ere when 

     They owned their passiveness.