I walked the fields against a blowing wind
I trampled on the golden grains of dreams
a constant hope for life but toil\'s chagrin
the undulating harvests will redeem
As I endure the sadness from within
I bear the guilt for scorn of dulcet bliss
My careless way of deigning precepts shown
was born, my youth was loath to count remiss
My truth is real I have renewed my creeds
In moral exile I became atoned
The shame is vanished from all wrongful deeds
Travails besiege and winnow life apace
To thus divide the traits of wants from needs
We must adopt a counseled supple grace