Short poem

Stone worn
Overgrown
Pristine thorns
Sheep shorn
Tinkling below
Roofless walls
Rooks overlook
I told you so
Babbles the brook

Here and there
White hairs appear
On my chest —
Age seasons me
Gives me zest —
I am a sage
In the making
Sprinkled, shaking

The niche narrows
Hones one thin
Until his bones
Disclose him

Water opens without end
At the bow of the ship
Rising to descend
Away from it

Days become one
I am who I was

more than the black
which it displaces —
Upon any fine day
I jump these traces

The kids fighting
over 4 or 5 pennies
my ears ringing
bent to the shape
of   the spring moon I
am a crybaby

One fisherman alongside the other
one seagull alongside the other
seagulls over the fishermen.

Correct answers: c, d, d, b, b, a, b, a, a, c, b, b, b, c, b, d, b, d, c.
— If you scored 14-19, you’ re a well adjusted person, a home-owner, with and income of at least $50,000 a year.
— If you scored 8-13, you either rent or live with your parents, never exercise, and consume at least a 6-pack a day.
— if you scored 7 or less, you’ re in trouble with the FBI and/or the IRS, cut your own hair, and use public transit as your primary mode of transportation.

Only the wanderer
Knows England's graces,
Or can anew see clear
Familiar faces.

And who loves joy as he
That dwells in shadows?
Do not forget me quite,
O Severn meadows.