O, to have the heart of a weed!
That stops for nothing nor has need
Of all the demands of flow’rs thirst –
Flourishing in sweet famine’s dearth.
Then as shadows of this dark night
Swallow faith and leave without sight
These eyes so oft governed by sun
Blind through steely earth would I shunt
And should by evil’s hand my shoot
Be ripped from moor I’d know my root
In holding fast would ne’er death feign
And life would birth this weed’s heart ‘gain.