Atra Cura by William Makepeace Thackeray - A Poem

As an addition to one of my other posts about self image, self esteem, emotions etc, 
I wanted to share a poem that I always really enjoyed.

There was a period in my work when I was very dark and nihilistic, 
followed everywhere by a dark cloud.
I not only found this poem amusing, 
but it reminded me about perception and perspective. 

I am but a witless fool. Enjoy.

Atra Cura by William Makepeace Thackeray 


Before I lost my five poor wits,
  I mind me of a Romish clerk,
  Who sang how Care, the phantom dark,
  Beside the belted horseman sits.
  Methought I saw the grisly sprite
  Jump up but now behind my Knight.

  And though he gallop as he may,
  I mark that cursed monster black
  Still sits behind his honor's back,
  Tight squeezing of his heart alway.
  Like two black Templars sit they there,
  Beside one crupper, Knight and Care.

  No knight am I with pennoned spear,
  To prance upon a bold destrere:
  I will not have black Care prevail
  Upon my long-eared charger's tail,
  For lo, I am a witless fool,
  And laugh at Grief and ride a mule.