Monday, November 28, 2011

Love the Alchemist

Doleful is the world and dark;
On its rim an ancient one
Weeps to hear the wind blow wild.
Love, a laughing little child,
Carries sheaves of golden sun
To the hoary patriarch,
Takes his hand ... a dream is spun.
Shadowed ways are sunlight aisled,
Earth is singing! Hark! On, hark!