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with apologies to Lord Byron
She walks in glory
Like the night
The troubles of the day
All but out of sight
”I wish I may, I wish I might,”
She cries and then
The sun is coming up again.
She flies in glory
On the wind
Her flag of love is fluttering
She planted it on a hope and dream
And lost it to another’s scheme
Or so she thought, or so it seemed
But the sun is coming up again.
She glides in glory
like the shell
The boy in the boat
He steers so well
Skims the surface, the waters swell
There’s not a moment left to kill
For the sun is coming up again.
She sits in glory
Statuesque
I think is what describes her best
Bronze and silver stand the test
Of man’s unkind forgetfulness
A true heart aches beneath her breast
For the sun to come up again
She lies in glory
in fields of gold
A moonless night, a tale untold
Like Barley waving in the wind
For sunrise to come ‘round again
Absolve her of her mortal sin
The sun will surely rise again!
The sun will surely rise again.
Psalm 30:5
For his anger endureth but a moment; in his favour is life: weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.
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