She O'The Morrow

Woman of Sorrow She o'the Morrow Drink to her whose sorrow Nay... I'll drink to her on the morrow... Has aroused a poet's sigh; She who'd set my thoughts a'fly... A woman who brought tomorrow She from whom I'd borrowed... What treasure can never buy. Treazure grand from silken thigh... Her words are penned with sadness Her words o'pen o'gladness... And often an empty tone; Feelings oft thought as madness... Along with all those feelings Full cool crost river's stone... In a sea of tears from feeling alone. A'drift in sea o'tear... o'smile felt hers alone. Here's to her whose sorrow Here's to she of morrow... Has made many a poet cry; Whose gift I so shall try... Her words are read with tears Her words thus through the years... That rain like love from the sky. Shall be as rain o'love from sky. Now the sea will drink her tears Aye! I'll toast then on that morrow... With those we try to hide; Gone thus her fog o'sorrow... Here's to her whose sorrow As joy displaces fear... Flows free from deep down inside. When then our sea doth drink her tear... Mine as well fast by her side... Elizabeth Wesley Winds of pleazure set high our tide... So shall I my glass lift high... To she that sails on winds o'pride. SeaWolf