The Whips of Life

Life had me by the throat when I was young.
This way and that her pitiless lashes swung,
Striving to strike me calm, yet she beheld
Twenty rebellions rise where one was quelled.
I felt the sky itself too closely bent;
My days were infinite with discontent.
I often longed for times when peace would pour,
Like sunlight on a solitary moor,
Her quiets over me. But now that's come
And youth's sweet voice of madness, long since dumb,
Gives way to measured music learned by rote—
Oh, that life once more had me by the throat!
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