Yeats
hail horizon, i come in cheer
mating the winds that come by near
when my winds hug thy bare skinn'd free
as a storm when loves dear a tree!
ur tree hands raise high from good leads
of hard plow, u rose thru the weeds
for u have raised infrom this land
u r the seed that grew from sand!
and who thirst not, but from high fruits
ought to water and feed deep'nd roots
wherefrom the ground, earth quinch from these
before ladders to honey, and biting bees!
me
no footnotes on this one... lol