Friday, November 11, 2011

On The Wind

You see, I resign myself to my resigning
Not from discontent
For long and well have I loved this world
Each day it doth increase in beauty
And care
In aspects of love ne’er has it been more abundant
You see, I see
That from which all life springeth
I am rapt
And only a fool would not follow such sirens call
My Lord, a temptress?
Seems sure
But none so pure
My eyes are fixed
You, who hear, fear nothing
Nor romance my demise
I leave not in a trail of blood making
But dissolve myself fully
Herein, if thou smells sweet fragrance in the air
‘Tis but my love on the wind

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