A day in his clothes

I like his shirt, i like his pant; his bod I like; The least of all errant, I find his face-alike! Herds we live as, Mind and heart all tied one to another like a bunch of lily in flower vase! We feel as aspire To cast and hire, the cloths of other and call ‘em our own feather, mounds of his weather! This is man, Scuffle nearer to self; As Hustle-bustle for the pan’che of elf! Well, Man might rise and fall, Come and leave But the heart will cry for the salve And, as the sigh contrary to that irksome cup, Will crave for the empty jug!!! Appetence, whew, will take him long! His might be mine and mine so blind! I feel, I want and I long not if for an age, nor for a moment of moth just for a day I whine To be in his clothes and song!!!