A Pastoral 

The skies are clearer there, my dear,
Where as a child I lived.
The clouds sail the unblemished air
Like the spirits unbelieved.
And I remember them, my dear,
They as a child I loved.

The meadows lightened in a smile
When came the spring so early.
And there wasn't a trace of guile
In the splendours of the lea
When bloomed tulips and daffodils,
For the spring came so early.

Each mornings I would promenade
By the crumbling cottage
Across the dew-wet clover-field
To the brook; by the edge
I would sit, and with bare feet wade,
Each mornings by the edge.

And all was blissful solitude,
Save when a swallow chirped,
Or when a reticent ploughman passed;
I sat there undisturbed,
Savouring the heavenly quietude,
Save perhaps a swallow's chirp.

And time to time it did rain there,
But only so lightly.
Never did rain obscenely pour,
But came in drifts blithely;
All was watery wet, I in tears,
For it rained so beautifully.

The winter came yearly over,
But didn't stay long often.
And winters were never so bitter,
But pleasantly happened.
And lovely was the snowy fir
When the winters happened.

Would I if you'd go there with me
To dance on the wild meadows--
To live enraptured and carefree;
There is no grief or woe.
There I shall grow old loving thee,
And to heaven then go.
And you shall cry for me, cry for me.

Feb 2, 1996




  
 Do not despair--One of the thieves was saved...