Wednesday 6 February 2013

Sand

These walls, they stand
All by hand and by sweat
Guard, my forgotten land
To them is owed a debt

Brave now all, for quiet
Labour's cost will tell
Bruiséd brow, beyond duty
These lips they shall not sell

Vigilance, it now approaching
Mother's lonely night
These ramparts still enduring
To my failing sight

Crack, aheard from far
Tis a rumour to be feared
Make grasp and to tremble
For this world to disappear

As the eye, o' wandering vagrant
With joy I do recall
What pride must accomplish
For the mighty great to fall

And lo, now come the Heavens
So sudden, yet expected
At once horrified and
Relieved; elated and dejected