Monday, October 21, 2013

October 26

OF all the downfalls in the world,
   The flutter of an Autumn leaf
   Grows grievous by suggesting grief:
Who thought, when Spring was first unfurled,
Of this? The wide world lay empearled;
Who thought of frost that nips the world?
                                             Sigh on, my ditty.

There lurk a hundred subtle stings
   To prick us in our daily walk:
   An apple cankered on its stalk,
A robin snared for all his wings,
A voice that sang but never sings;
Yea, sight or sound or silence stings.
                                            Kind Lord, show pity.

1 comment:

  1. The Lord is full of tender compassion and pitiful.