Nature
Nature is not as capricious as man,
Who seeks beauty after beauty,
She merely plays out her own plan.
We make out from her wine,
Yet we all bias in our taste,
Nature is not as fastidious as man.
Her greenish coat we undon,
Remiss of her ire and wrath,
She merely plays out her own plan.
In her warm hug we get tan,
But from her tears we stay away,
Nature is not as incongruous as man.
We touch her deep in her vein,
Uncovered her chamber of gold,
Nature is not as covetous as man,
She merely plays out her own plan.