So say, Lord on Sky heavens divine,
Say now that I wronged as late,
The sweetest charms of hearts divide,
The leaking tale of one to bait
Mine hour yet lingered in soaking brew
Now creased in ink as dark yea hue,
For tis annulled much more anew,
The uncles and daughters of You,
Now say again my name this low,
In whispers come in echoes fade,
So tremble bad with greater foe
That I too descend in good to bade,
When lake is soil and mud is Earth,
When seas are taught the art of kill,
Since last I have known naught my worth,
Yet in this room of shallow grey still
Do the words yet write themselves more?
Breathing silk till all the air is wrung,
Who knew not my lasting peace is furor,
When all I am is but half of now yea sung.

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Poetry, Works
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