Baffled by daffodils the harp still sings
Struggling on mound the grass still breaths
Beholden by sight, I hold a dream wings
But fear its feather don’t miss with Whigs.

 Will torment my thoughts, as annoys my brain,
I fear his presence will seize my dream.
I shall wake upset and move to my desk,
Which century was it, that he was replaced?

 Was it the Tory or the Helen of Troy?
Who makes me calm to feel my breath?
Who is the writer and who is the novelist?
Who is coroneted and who are novelties?

 Questions are many but life is one,
Shashank Jha
Days are many but the day of death is one,
Birthday is one and so examination day is one,
But who will kindle my thoughts and unite them to one?

Come Mephistopheles tear me to pieces,
As you did to Dr. Faustus
But do it now, before I see morrow’s sun
And burst my brain with the load of HEL.