though hopes are dupes

 

salvaging the smallest of hard-won gains
we ask for only what there is to hand
not even the best product of the land
nor what we have achieved with many pains
a sort of echo after long-sought rains
we come we hope at last to understand
a thing that happens even if not planned
after the mountains there are only plains
let us begin by recital of fact
this light that softens comes to us by art
all that we do is take the proferred lift
accept that there is something we have lacked
rejoice that there's another chance to start
and take the fruits of victory as gift

purses are not trash

 

a chance to fill the lines and make the sense
become what each desires and not the whole
universal repulsion of each soul
without dejection and without pretense
true hunters are not bothered by a fence
and rabbits can't just vanish down the hole
out here there's due procedure and control
and nothing matters when we are gone hence
amaze the punters with some simple tricks
and you'll gain reputation and acclaim
and in a generation be forgot
when we add up we do not count the bricks
that make the infrastructure of all fame
but just the coins that we've got in the pot