This time, this time, no more the dreaded thoughts,
No ghastly synapses shall haunt the brain
No fear, no doubt, no dank depressive droughts
Shall ever darken this bright soul again
Why does the mighty soul trap its own foot
Or find blockades when only freedom 'bounds?
Why burn your bridge before you've set your boot
Or mourn your luck whene'er the trumpet sounds?
This fear, this doubt, 'tis fables made of bile
And wo'ry a lie spun by a loaded tail
This beast, this wraith, this oily, dripping smile
Unsummon thee, thy most miniscule scale!
Don't taunt the raging boil; cast it 'neath
Its spite brings might, a white-hot knight unsheathed
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