Picnic

THIS lawn is pleasant? No, my dear, not very. . . .
No, not to us who hate the grass that covers
Debris like Thomas Wore, and Glastonbury,
And millions upon millions of good lovers.

I’d like our life the less were it more certain?
Why, yes, it’s certainty I hate. To know
That in our days at least this muffling curtain
Will have worse things above it than below!