Tag: Beth Frances

Of the Fall

We are of the fall, my love, Born beneath a waning moon A fateful star o’er hung, my love, And song soon lost its tune Darkness fell o’er all, my love, A gloom o’er me and you Blindly go we all, my love, In search of sweet perfume Sadly go we all, my love, Through…

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The Silver Cord

Lord, let me chain myself to thee, that I might not stray! Through thoughts of chains, a word, — No chain – but a silver cord.  In that simple thought I see, thou higher art than me Foolish are we men – our thoughts are small, and low, and hard we call, Twisting, driving, hoping…

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