Song of An Ancient Poet

I live in bliss, Ising with thee In faith and hope I sing and pray When day comes with dew on the lea In faith and hope I sing and pray Oft in prayers I lift my palms In winter`s cold or summer`s heat Under shades I lift my voice in psalms At home and on the open street To the graveside dirge voices lend O the cadence itself is life On which my hollow heart must mend Dreary notes like cuts of a knife The soft wind blow a cottage hymn A thicket bird for twilight tweet Where once all was quiet and grim They seem to me a splendid treat My prime is done and gone with age December`s end quickens no sigh Nor baneful tears to quench her rage My path is bliss `tis not a lie The husking darkness clouds my sight A blanket doom waits not for me I sleep but shall wake to find light Break the mountain waves of the sea