Under Shade of Hazel tree,
As the sky reflects the sea,
Where the Red King meets the Green,
Here the Poet sets the scene.
Preterist rhymes future done,
When the Moon outshone her Sun.
Lucky guess or crystal ball
Let the Bard predict her fall?
As the children learn to skate,
Or the scholar draws the eight,
Or the wing mirrors its mate,
So her meter pens her fate.
Or does Life within the Art
Foretell progress of the Heart?
Which is real and which pretend -
That beginning, or this end?
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