The poem
Acquaintance; companion; One dear brilliant woman; The best-endowed, the elect, All by their youth undone, All, all, by that inhuman Bitter glory wrecked.
But I have straightened out Ruin, wreck and wrack; I toiled long years and at length Came to so deep a thought I can summon back All their wholesome strength.
What images are these That turn dull-eyed away, Or Shift Time's filthy load, Straighten aged knees, Hesitate or stay? What heads shake or nod?