23.07.2007, 08:29
YEA, come to me ye suffering! To all
I am a brother now!'T was not in vain
I saw our Sorrowful Sister's face, who slain
Yet lives; whose voice when she doth weep and call
Is silent. WVhen she weeps? Nay, nay! the pall
Is on her tears too -they are dead. The rain
Is molten-hot dust-dry from her dull pain
:Like ashes from the burning heavens that fall.
I know the world-wide, lovely, living lie;
I know the truth that better were unknown.
I know the joyful laugh that is a cry
Torn from a heart whence hope and faith have flown,
And yet beats on, and will not, dare not die.
I know the anguish without word or moan.
I am a brother now!'T was not in vain
I saw our Sorrowful Sister's face, who slain
Yet lives; whose voice when she doth weep and call
Is silent. WVhen she weeps? Nay, nay! the pall
Is on her tears too -they are dead. The rain
Is molten-hot dust-dry from her dull pain
:Like ashes from the burning heavens that fall.
I know the world-wide, lovely, living lie;
I know the truth that better were unknown.
I know the joyful laugh that is a cry
Torn from a heart whence hope and faith have flown,
And yet beats on, and will not, dare not die.
I know the anguish without word or moan.