A man is born with all he is
And all he’ll ever be
But with passing years
Some things will fall
And some rise in ascendency
Some fallen things will rise again
Whilst some risen things decline
And aspects dance-out
Like zodiacal signs.
Thus can a man at different times
Be sinner, knave, or saint;
And thus can even
Be marred by falsehood’s taint.
Just some reflections on how some people can seem so out of character from day to day. I was a bit doubtful about the fifth line (a bit too long, obviously), but I think it lends it a lovely singsongy quality.
I am, of course, using “man” in the classical sense of “thing with hands.”