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| When You Are Old When you are old and grey and full of sleep And nodding by the fire, take down this book And slowly read, and dream of the soft look Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep How many loved your moments of glad grace And loved your beauty with love false or true But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you And loved the sorrows of your changing face And bending down beside the glowing bars Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled And placed upon the mountains overhead And hid his face amid a crowd of stars ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Planters Daughter When night stirred at sea And the fire brought a crowd in They say that her beauty Was music in mouth And few in the candlelight Thought her too proud For the house of the planter Is known by the trees Men that had seen her Drank deep and were silent The women were speaking Where ever she went As a bell that is rung Or a wonder told shyly And O she was the Sunday In every week -------------------------------------------------------------- Ecce Puer Of the dark past A child is born With joy and grief My heart is torn Calm in his cradle The living lies May love and mercy Unclose his eyes Young life is breathed On the glass The world that was not Come to pass A child is sleeping An old man gone O, Father Forsaken Forgive your son THE END |
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