Monday, 14 October 2013



Each tear that falls is like an endless bitter
So sharp, but too beloved to be despising

My weep is blithe, my love for Thee grows sweeter
My passion's like a pounding sea - still rising.
The more I try to sing the more it's harming
Nor voice nor song can hide its sound affected
Joy feelings of this love restrained but charming
Observed my lonely being less dejected.



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