HE MOURNS FOR THE CHANGE THAT HAS COME
 UPON HIM AND HIS BELOVED, AND LONGS FOR
 THE END OF THE WORLD
 
 DO you not hear me calling, white deer with no horns?
 I have been changed to a hound with one red ear;
 I have been in the Path of Stones and the Wood of Thorns,
 For somebody hid hatred and hope and desire and fear
 Under my feet that they follow you night and day.
 A man with a hazel wand came without sound;
 He changed me suddenly; I was looking another way;
 And now my calling is but the calling of a hound;
 And Time and Birth and Change are hurrying by.
 I would that the Boar without bristles had come from the West
 And had rooted the sun and moon and stars out of the sky
 And lay in the darkness, grunting, and turning to his rest.