Forgotten Sorrow
Hand on hand rest, I given a thistle
Forgive the word by the flaws in whistle
Tarry you and carry,no-more longer I
Dripped you the tear of slouching eye
In the mountain of fall layered in gild
And golden wattle suited into the barren field
The swore i remembered the long before
I placed over you that i never hold anymore
A stolen merry gyring within your quietness arm
Against the same lea and your terrible charm
Saddening and shrilling cries on my chest
And felt burnt by the chilly and hanging crest
O' what is meant to be sorrow i forgot
It is so where you were biding a lot
I the varlet flee to where we never meet
And is now your joy undimmed and sweet
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