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The
quarrel of the sparrow in the eaves, The full round moon and the star-laden sky, And the loud song of the ever-singing leaves, Had hid away earth's old and weary cry. And then you came with those red mournful lips, And with you came the whole of the world's tears, And all the sorrows of her labouring ships, And all the burden of her myriad years. And now the sparrows warring in the eaves, The curd-pale moon, the white stars in the sky, And the loud chaunting of the unquiet leaves, Are shaken with earth's old and weary cry. |
Love is, above all, the gift of oneself. - Jean Anouilh, When I am sad and
weary. When I think all hope has gone. Those have most power to hurt us that we love. - Francis Beaumont |
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