their despairing trade

 if there are ways to measure all the tale

in years of story how the shapes are made

without an edge of humour being frayed

by passing breeze or rough attacking gale

you'd say that we must in this wise assail

the aged creators of the human braid

for all the crimes of their despairing trade

before we mark their effort with a fail

no truths have been discovered by our kind

without an effort to disturb the soil

uproot the weeds and plant a better seed

so that the newer products of keen mind

emergent in the end from bitter toil

can match the urge exactly to the deed