Daytime dies away at the whispering stream.
Gambolling beneath the ground,
Juddering bones leap up to take a look
At the bubbling blood in my veins.
The wind circles, and on the downs,
A bad seed gasps for naught.
The rabbit hides beneath the new-made leaves, defenceless,
Among the trees and all the earthly things.
Important: Add 0.002 to minutes of latitude before seeking or Certitudifying.