Gentle shadows upon the right hand
Where forsaken storms tame and meek
The houses of frailness over the land
Oh let this white graze of truth become
A man’s light of holiness and taste
Rest the blunt unmoved angel’s tongue
Be not the soul with immoral hate
Let may it calm and soothe desires
No matter what these souls meet
Death as covenant and life as prize
To a heart that God had breathed.
No comments:
Post a Comment