(no subject)
The thought of you was brimming in my mind:
It overflowed, and soon it showed
An empty-headed helpless busy kind
Of mind that thinks for work and not for love.
But then I went, and I'll repent
The love I squandered on a spiteful dove,
Who flutters from me hundred miles away,
And looked at me, as birds can see
Beneath the burning sunlight's cheerful day.
And all grew dark upon a winter's whim.
I was amiss, I dreamed her kiss,
And then my heart was waxing low and dim.
My brain was sick with love and lovers' words,
And then I stooped, while all day trooped
The world's dread need-force and its preying birds,
Who tore my flesh upon an ill-made bed.
My life was sad (though God was glad)
And dying was the love inside my head.
It overflowed, and soon it showed
An empty-headed helpless busy kind
Of mind that thinks for work and not for love.
But then I went, and I'll repent
The love I squandered on a spiteful dove,
Who flutters from me hundred miles away,
And looked at me, as birds can see
Beneath the burning sunlight's cheerful day.
And all grew dark upon a winter's whim.
I was amiss, I dreamed her kiss,
And then my heart was waxing low and dim.
My brain was sick with love and lovers' words,
And then I stooped, while all day trooped
The world's dread need-force and its preying birds,
Who tore my flesh upon an ill-made bed.
My life was sad (though God was glad)
And dying was the love inside my head.