Show THE XOVICC The loved may die or he may change And K he die thou art bereft Or i he alter nought is left Save life that seemeth strange A weary life a hopeless life Full of all ill and fearoppressed A weary life that looks for rest Alone after deaths strife And loves joy hath no quiet even I evermore is variable Its gladness is like war in hell More than repose in heaven Ye it is a a poison cup That holds one quick firedraught within For when the life seems to begin The slow death looketh up bgn Then bring me to a solitude Where love may neither come nor go Where very peaceful waters flow And roots are found for food Where the wild honey bee booms bAnd b-And trees and bushes freely give Ripe fruits and nuts there I would live And there I fain would die There autumn leaves may make my nln And little birds sing over I And there cool twilight winds may flit And shadowy branches wave Christine RossettS |