20201221.0430

Now more space opens for a hanging thing
Than daily use has long been wont to bring
For it, though loss of space will make them sing
Who feel their dangling suddenly curtailed.
(Baritone efforts have thus often failed
As stricken faces suddenly thus paled.)
That which is often girded tight hangs free,
Though still full well ensconced within the lee
Of blowing winds that hidden regions see
But seldom, as if an unscheduled prayer
If offered at the altar hidden there
By layered cloth, pulled up and out with care.
Ah! To have a penitent on knees
Who that within the open space would seize!