Beloved

Hello, how are you I am fine, and you Towering over high I see a bride What do you think Of those who do not When honour is linked, And cannot be bought How do we free it If it is so That so many need it Is but a woe But thou have it near From afar I have heard As Thou art dear Silent of word And keep thy silence Oh honoured geust Lest it blow, And many a bow Strike the matches Of a hungered soul Who could not but wait At thy present fate A cold mistless night When the sun is out of sight To climb the mountain at this hour Pick a flower for they honour Would thy accept I wonder? To let go of the honours, dreams and dye To cast asunder The decorative bye and sigh To let go of the honours That such a tale intales And live free of the world That hath honoured thy hand...