 |
| On this hour, I thee dead, Take lost souls' pictures in my head. By the dawn thy soul may rise, Here upon their graves it flies. The remains of the night will hollow all, Before our world begins to fall..... |
|
|
|
| On this hour, I thee dead, Take lost souls' pictures in my head. By the dawn thy soul may rise, Here upon their graves it flies. The remains of the night will hollow all, Before our world begins to fall..... |
|
|