Much have I wandered from city to sea
To stare so blankly at the cross in the road;
In couraging that dust that thus billowed
‘tween trees; and in the swirling around me
Stun so completely my lungs that I be
Unable to catch my breath!  That abode
Below my heart has condemned that its mode
Be unwilling to welcome the breeze.
O God!  To your welcomes does my voice call
That ‘midst this Carrefour with maidhood stood
Mine cherub whose voice dost cast off my pall
And loose in me the wind, that might I should
Take in her scent; or break by starts and stall
My pulmonic dolor did dread never would.

You are viewing proxied material from gopher.black. The copyright of proxied material belongs to its original authors. Any comments or complaints in relation to proxied material should be directed to the original authors of the content concerned. Please see the disclaimer for more details.