Is there a home beyond
this market place
Is there a fort beneath
these 'Westing' seas
Is there a time when man
shall bask in grace
Is there a time for flow'r-
o'erflow appease.
I speak in tongues as
wisdom ploughs no way
But tread confused, the
breath of yonder men
I speak in tongues for
cheerfulness to stay
But tread confused and
seek comforting den.
Is there a place where
screams are heard and
felt
I ask the lurking crowds
of sunder waves
Perhaps a citadel on
Heaven's belt
Beyond the reach of grief
and lusts of graves.
Conclusion stands a curse
and silence, worse
Is there a place of mirth
and mild discourse?
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