No joy is here to stroke away the hours
That love has bent with her mortal powers
So veil not the scaring in your solace-eyes
For this marks well the habitual pages,
Where your sweet incarnate spirit resides:
No joy is here to stroke away the hours
That love has bent with her mortal powers
So veil not the scaring in your solace-eyes
For this marks well the habitual pages,
Where your sweet incarnate spirit resides: