The Broken Wing/Longing

​Longing

Round the sadness of my daysBreaks a melody of praiseLike a shining storm of petals,Like a lustrous rain of pearls,From the lutes of eager minstrels,From the lips of glowing girls.
Round the sadness of my nightsBreaks a carnival of lights. . . .But amid the gleaming pageantOf life's gay and dancing crowdGlides my cold heart like a spectreIn a rose-encircled shroud.
Love, beyond these lonely yearsLies there still a shrine of tears, ​A dim sanctuary of sorrow Where my grieving heart may rest, And on some deep tide of slumber Reach the comfort of your breast?
This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.