Furnace Song

Whene'er it doth seem the fierce tempest rage -
Know thee then beloved, anon sails thy double wage.
Be thou gay in cruellest wind that doth blow -
For exercised therein thy strenght is blessed to grow.

Thy wit
Is as gold
That through most cruellest
Heat
must go.
Take ahold
Of thy mustard faith.
The throne awaits
He that will be brave...
Copyright © | Year Posted 2018

Poem

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