Thy bountiful heart laden with grief;
Seeketh thou what thy mind knoweth not -
Mine eyes, oh, a river they weep!
Answered? Nay, thy mendicant prayers
Knoweth no reason nor rhyme.
Thy gold, thy silver, all thy pride
Lay a-beggin' in the grime.
No more thou kisseth the summer moon
Nor the silvery waters below!
Behold, the lonely bluebirds shed
Blue teardrops in the snow.
Whither art thou, my angel bright?
The silent hills implore;
The tide is gone, the breeze is low -
This ship canst sail no more.
Fallen hast thou my faithful friend -
Thy tales them children hear
And for all the joy it bringeth them
T'is more than I canst bear.
Yours sincerely
Jude
No comments:
Post a Comment