Lament

Lament

Is silence sweet that you should rest so longIn hateful slumber, far from dance and song?Does early love that found the rosy dayOnce slow in coming, seek no more the greyCool shadows pendant o’er the summer moon,(That perfect moment that is fled too soon)Tinging thine image with mysterious graceThat centers soul and body in the faceAs in an emerald pool?It is not thus that I would have you liveA miser, when such treasure you might giveMy heart in words. Your parent thoughts would tellOf love and laughter that have cast the spellI would not break for all the organ pealsOf grey cathedrals, nor to lose the sealsThat bind the mystery of Circe’s lips,Whispering toll of countless foundered shipsWhose pilots played the fool.

Is silence sweet that you should rest so longIn hateful slumber, far from dance and song?Does early love that found the rosy dayOnce slow in coming, seek no more the greyCool shadows pendant o’er the summer moon,(That perfect moment that is fled too soon)Tinging thine image with mysterious graceThat centers soul and body in the faceAs in an emerald pool?It is not thus that I would have you liveA miser, when such treasure you might giveMy heart in words. Your parent thoughts would tellOf love and laughter that have cast the spellI would not break for all the organ pealsOf grey cathedrals, nor to lose the sealsThat bind the mystery of Circe’s lips,Whispering toll of countless foundered shipsWhose pilots played the fool.

Is silence sweet that you should rest so longIn hateful slumber, far from dance and song?Does early love that found the rosy dayOnce slow in coming, seek no more the greyCool shadows pendant o’er the summer moon,(That perfect moment that is fled too soon)Tinging thine image with mysterious graceThat centers soul and body in the faceAs in an emerald pool?

Is silence sweet that you should rest so long

In hateful slumber, far from dance and song?

Does early love that found the rosy day

Once slow in coming, seek no more the grey

Cool shadows pendant o’er the summer moon,

(That perfect moment that is fled too soon)

Tinging thine image with mysterious grace

That centers soul and body in the face

As in an emerald pool?

It is not thus that I would have you liveA miser, when such treasure you might giveMy heart in words. Your parent thoughts would tellOf love and laughter that have cast the spellI would not break for all the organ pealsOf grey cathedrals, nor to lose the sealsThat bind the mystery of Circe’s lips,Whispering toll of countless foundered shipsWhose pilots played the fool.

It is not thus that I would have you live

A miser, when such treasure you might give

My heart in words. Your parent thoughts would tell

Of love and laughter that have cast the spell

I would not break for all the organ peals

Of grey cathedrals, nor to lose the seals

That bind the mystery of Circe’s lips,

Whispering toll of countless foundered ships

Whose pilots played the fool.

MORRIS TYLER.


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