There is an expectation to be right.
And some the nature or the culture serve.
And few are they who only serve the light.
It seems like people do not have the nerve,
since faith and hope is what they do deserve,
not love. Much better is to be by God –
much better being for God to observe,
not under but in power of the rod.
I believe the French word “huit” means “eight”. They say a huitain is made up of a stanza of the (long) ballade and forms a complete poem as such. So the lines are iambic pentameters. The rhyme scheme is
| ababbcbc |.