She at the very last spoke to me--
Her soft speech was soothing as balm--
Whom I've desired much the first to be;
Yet my soul was firm and calm.
And peace like a river flowed
In my heart like never before,
And my love straightaway followed
Hers like a sheep to the abattoir.
She howbeit will not slaughter me.
If she did it would be with her love.
So let me die by the dirk of that dilly
Rather than stay alive with a frigid dove.
Oct 11, 2011
Oct 11, 2011 at 2:34 AM UTC
She at the very last spoke to me--
Her soft speech was soothing as balm--
Whom I've desired much the first to be;
Yet my soul was firm and calm.
And peace like a river flowed
In my heart like never before,
And my love straightaway followed
Hers like a sheep to the abattoir.
She howbeit will not slaughter me.
If she did it would be with her love.
So let me die by the dirk of that dilly
Rather than stay alive with a frigid dove.
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