To Come As Secret Leaving
I
Is secret weav'd for lights the veil
And high the tree,for far seeds fall,
In those they flows the eternal spell
Of Life, as wind- shall not them call.
II
Who ever will love thee?
How many to thee fell?
Could thou the one forgive,
While never rest in dwell?
III
As of greed river Time is blushing,
Its waters kiss no lips, but led;
Why is the breath from ever hushing?
Why still the tears abide to shed?
IV
And thou of sorrow dew and shine,
In leisure faith was to thee Sire!
No pray more raise from hands of thine,
Thou bless the Spirit -for not share the fire!
V
Is immortal soul through striving prove,
And loving what is not I dare,
For Itself hath been the heaven rove
To brightest shine-or may to spare.
Copyright © Arthur Plisenhayer | Year Posted 2015
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