though hopes are dupes

salvaging the smallest of hard-won gains
we ask for only what there is to hand
not even the best product of the land
nor what we have achieved with many pains
a sort of echo after long-sought rains
we come we hope at last to understand
a thing that happens even if not planned
after the mountains there are only plains
let us begin by recital of fact
this light that softens comes to us by art
all that we do is take the proferred lift
accept that there is something we have lacked
rejoice that there's another chance to start
and take the fruits of victory as gift