Tuesday, June 09, 2009
Full them with water so that they rain
And Earth thence quench its thirst,
It’s long been waiting in sheer pain
When’ll these clouds burst.
O’ Mercy put an to this
This cold & withered thing,
So that again we embrace the bliss
Of gleeful bounteous spring.
This pale & withered body cries
Yet no one comes to cure,
Few days of bliss do come nigh
But rest is to deplore.
Spring has gone & autumn rules
Had left everything so pale,
O’ Come on Mercy with thy tools
And bliss this gloomy dale.
So dumb are now skylark & thrush
No chirp we hear, no song
What’ve put them to this hush?
What with their voices wrong?
So dull & drab is life and we
Then have to live it on,
So glum is meadow and the lea
And so lifeless is fawn.
This stagnant water of the brook
Has left nothing to drink,
Thirst has captured every nook
That’s caused the throat to shrink.
Roses, Tulips died in pain
Their death this dale now mourns,
So stark do stand the stalks so plain
With no flowers but thorns.
No breeze blows but mournful surge
That makes an awful sound,
How the hope can now emerge?
When rest is in a swound.
O’ Shed thy Mercy on this vale
So that these dry clouds rain,
May taste then sweetness this gloomy dale
And live it’s life again.
And Earth thence quench its thirst,
It’s long been waiting in sheer pain
When’ll these clouds burst.
O’ Mercy put an to this
This cold & withered thing,
So that again we embrace the bliss
Of gleeful bounteous spring.
This pale & withered body cries
Yet no one comes to cure,
Few days of bliss do come nigh
But rest is to deplore.
Spring has gone & autumn rules
Had left everything so pale,
O’ Come on Mercy with thy tools
And bliss this gloomy dale.
So dumb are now skylark & thrush
No chirp we hear, no song
What’ve put them to this hush?
What with their voices wrong?
So dull & drab is life and we
Then have to live it on,
So glum is meadow and the lea
And so lifeless is fawn.
This stagnant water of the brook
Has left nothing to drink,
Thirst has captured every nook
That’s caused the throat to shrink.
Roses, Tulips died in pain
Their death this dale now mourns,
So stark do stand the stalks so plain
With no flowers but thorns.
No breeze blows but mournful surge
That makes an awful sound,
How the hope can now emerge?
When rest is in a swound.
O’ Shed thy Mercy on this vale
So that these dry clouds rain,
May taste then sweetness this gloomy dale
And live it’s life again.
Posts
0 comments:
Post a Comment
Your wrods are important...