Gold-brown upon the sated flood The rock-vine clusters lift and sway: Vast wings above the lambent waters brood Of sullen day. A waste of waters ruthlessly Sways and uplifts its weedy mane, Where brooding day stares down upon the sea In dull disdain. Uplift and sway, O golden vine, Thy clustered fruits to love's full flood, Lambent and vast and ruthless as is thine Incertitude.