Late night, moon, gone yonder the line
Half hidden from sights, covered clouds
So, what an embassy, quite and fine
Steeling far, and so a deep tension
Meaning, - how such a life which shrouds
In some tired, lonesome lit moan
Somehow the road, though seems empty
But many a hoods of owls threat
Only but some true fates' company
To prove itself such a dupe, fails,
That it comes down, not so a late
To be prosperities' view lanes.