~ A Tune ~ A foolish rhythm turn in my idle head As a wind-mill turns in the wind on an empty sky. Why is it when love, which men call deathless, is dead, That memory, men call fugitive, will not die? Is love not dead? Yet I headthe tune if I lie Dreaming awake in the night on my lonely bed, And an old thought turns with the tune in my head As a wind-mill turns in the wind on an empty sky. [ARTHUR SYMONS]
Posted on: Wed, 10 Jul 2013 04:34:42 +0000
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