The expense of spirit in a waste of shame
Is cicadas in action; and till action,
are forgotten, under ground, unnamed,
quiet, laid low, but growing in passion.
Came no sooner but regretting having waited,
Past reason born, and no sooner buried,
Past reason risen, and no sooner mated—
Dead. Seventeen years lay unmarried;
Hard in pursuit and in possession so;
Had, having, and in quest to have extreme;
A hard fate in proof, proved again, as irony goes;
Before, a horde; behind, a scream.
All this Brood 2 knew; yet none knows well
To shake the trait that turns bugs to a shell.