Thou Sky . . .

Thee behold, thou sky, from thy dark face and misery,

Thy heart you wring out, from thy clouds,

Catch but a wink on your pillowed blue arm,

Poureth down honey-sweet rain.

 

What art thee, thee blue heaven

Paradise of the lords,

Who lounge and bless, sitting in your hazy halo.

 

I behold, thy beauty,

But yet, sorrowed much at your misery,

Despite thy light, thou appeareth dark.

 

 

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