frail the flower, that she held
her hands frailer still
when touched, a grody cold
a winter morning's chill
frail and fair, her skin felt
eyes closed; asleep
at life's wicked plan
how could I not but weep?
frail the flower, that she held
her hands frailer still
when touched, a grody cold
a winter morning's chill
frail and fair, her skin felt
eyes closed; asleep
at life's wicked plan
how could I not but weep?
