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
Bruis├ęd 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

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