Beloved
Hello, how are you
I am fine, and you
Towering over high
I see a bride
What do you think
Of those who do not
When honour is linked,
And cannot be bought
How do we free it
If it is so
That so many need it
Is but a woe
But thou have it near
From afar I have heard
As Thou art dear
Silent of word
And keep thy silence
Oh honoured geust
Lest it blow,
And many a bow
Strike the matches
Of a hungered soul
Who could not but wait
At thy present fate
A cold mistless night
When the sun is out of sight
To climb the mountain at this hour
Pick a flower for they honour
Would thy accept I wonder?
To let go of the honours, dreams and dye
To cast asunder
The decorative bye and sigh
To let go of the honours
That such a tale intales
And live free of the world
That hath honoured thy hand...
|